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MEDITATIONS 



CONTEMPLATIONS. 

IN TWO VOLUMES.-- —_, 

CONTAINING, 
x VOLUME I. v VOLUME II, 

Meditations among the Tombs ; V Contemplations on the Ni^ht j 

Reflections on a FIowcr-Garden; V Contemplations on the Surry Heavens; 

and, V and, 

A Descant upon Creation. X A "Winter-Pie«e, 



BY JAMES HERVEY, A. M. 

LATE RECTOR OF WESTOX-FAVELL, NORTHAMPTONSHIRE, 



TWO VOLUMES IN ONE, 



PHILADELPHIA-. 

PUBLISHED BY B. AND T. KITE. N°. 20, NORTH THIRD STREET. 

1808. 

Dickinson, Printer 






,w 



TO MISS R- 



& 

<ET MADAM, 

THESE reflections, the one on the deepest, the other on 
the gayest scenes of Nature, when they proceeded privately 
from the pen, were addressed to a lady of the most valuable 
endowments ; who crowned all her other endearing qualities, 
by a fervent love of Christ, and an exemplary conformity to 
his divine pattern. She alas ! lives no longer on earth, un- 
less it be in the honours of a distinguished character, and in 
the bleeding remembrance of her acquaintance. 

It is impossible, Madam, to wish you a richer blessing, or 
a more substantial happiness, than that the same spirit of un- 
feigned faith, the same course of undented religion, which 
have enabled her to triumph over death, may both animate 
and adorn your life. And you will permit me to declare, that 
my chief inducement in requesting your acceptance of the fol- 
lowing meditations, now they make a public appearance from 
the press, is, that they are designed to cultivate the same sa- 
cred principle, and to promote the same excellent practice. 

Long, Madam, may you bloom in all the vivacity and ami- 
ableness of youth, like the charming subject of one of these * 
contemplations. But at the same time remember, that, with 
regard to such inferior accomplishments, you must one day 
fade (may it prove some very remote period 1 ) like the mourn- 
ful objects of the other. This consideration will prompt you 
to go on as you have begun, in adding the meekness of wis- 
dom, and all the beauties of holiness, to the graces of an en- 
gaging person, and the refinement of a polite education. 

And might — O ! might the ensuing hints furnish you with 
the least assistance, in prosecuting so desirable an end ; might 
they contribute, in any degree, to establish your faith, or ele- 
vate your devotion ; they would, then, administer to the au- 
thor such a satisfaction, as'ipplause cannot give, »or censure 
takeaway: a satisfaction, which I should be able to enjoy, 
even in those awful moments, when ail that captivates the 
eye is sinking in darkness, and every glory of this lower 
world disappearing for ever, 



rr DEDICATION. 

These wishes, Madam, as they are a most agreeable em- 
ploy of my thoughts, so they come attended with this addi- 
tional circumstance of pleasure, that they are also the sin- 
cerest expression of that very great esteem, with which I am. 

Madam, 

Your most obedient, 

most humble servant, 

JAMES HERVEY. 

tVttton-Faveil, near Northampton , ") 
May 20, 1746. 5 



\ 



I* 

FREFACE. 



THE first of these occasional meditations begs leave t» 
remind my readers of their latter end ; and would invite them 
to set, not their hou?es only, bat which is inexpressibly more 
needful, their.souls, in order : that they may be able, through 
all the intermediate stages, to look forward upon their ap- 
proaching exit, without any anxious apprehensions ; and, 
when the great change commences, may bid adieu to terres- 
trial things, with all the calmness of a cheerful resignation, 
with all the comforts of a well-grounded faith. 

The other attempts to sketch out some little traces of the all- 
sufficiency of our Redeemer, for the grand and gracions pur- 
poses of everlasting salvation ; that a sense of his unutterable 
dignity, and infinite perfections, may incite us to regard him 
with sentiments of the most profound veneration ; to long for 
an assured interest in his merits, with all the ardency of de- 
sire ; and to trust in his powerful mediation, with an affiance 
not to be shaken by any temptations, not to be shared with 
any performances of our own, 

I flatter myself, that the thoughts conceived among the 
tombs, may be welcome to the serious and humane mind : 
because, as there are few who have not consigned the re- 
mains of some dear relations, or honoured friends, to those 
silent repositories ; so there are none but must be sensible, 
that this is the house appointed for all living; and that they 
themselves are shortly to remove info the same solemn man- 
sions — And who would not turn aside for a while, from the 
most favourite amusements, to view the place where his once- 
loved companions lie ? who would not sometimes survey those 
apartments, where he himself is to take up an abode, till 
time shall be no more ? 

As to the other little essay, may I not humbly presume, 
that the very subject itself will recommend the remarks ? For 
who is not delighted with the prospect of the blooming crea- 
tion, and even charmed with the delicate attractions of flow- 
ers ? Who does not covet to assemble them in the garden, or 
A2 



vi PREFACE. 

wear them in a nosegay ? Since this is a passion so univer- 
sal, who would not be willing to render it productive of the 
sublimest improvement ? — This piece of holy frugality I have 
ventured to suggest, and endeavoured to exemplify, in the se- 
cond letter ; that, while the hand is cropping the transient 
beauties of a flower, the attentive mind may be enriching it- 
self with solid and lasting good. — And I cannot but entertain 
some pleasing hopes that the nicest taste may receive and 
relish religious impressions, when they are conveyed by such 
lovely monitors ; when the instructive lessons are found, not 
on the leaves of some formidable folio, but stand legible on 
the fine sarcenet or narcissus ; when they savour not of the 
lamp and recluse, but come breathing from the fragrant bo- 
som of a jonquil. 



VERSES TO MR. HERVEY, 



MEDITATIONS. 



IN these lov'd scenes, what rapt'rous graces shine ? 
Live in each leaf, and breathe in ev ry line ! 
What sacred beauties beam throughout the whole. 
To charm the sense and steal upon the soul ! 
In classic elegance, and thoughts — his own, 
We see our faults, as in a mirror shown ; 
Each truth, in glaring characters exprest, 
All own the twin resemblance in their breast : 
His easy periods, and persuasive page, 
At once amend, and entertain the age : 
Nature's wide fields all open to his view, > 

He charms the mind with something ever new : 
On fancy's pinions, his advent'rous soul 
Wantons unbounded, and pervades the whole i 
iVorn death's dark caverns in the earth below, 
To spheres, were planets roll, or comets glow. 

See him explore, with more than human eyes^ 
The dreary sepulchre, where Granville lies : 
Converse with stones, or monumental brass, 
The rude inscriptions— or the painted glass : 
To gloomy vaults descend with awful tread, 
And view the silent mansions of the dead. 

To gayer scenes he nexts adapts his lines, 
Where lavished Nature in embroid'ry shines : 
The jess'mine groves, the woodbine's fragrant bow*!^ 
With all the painted family of flow'rs ; 
There, Sacharissa ! in each fleeting grace, 
Read all the transient honours of thy face. 

With equal dignity, now see him rise 

To paint the sable horrors of the skies- 



When all the wide horizon lies in shade, 
And midnight phantoms sweep along the glade :. 
Ail Nature hiish'd — a solemn silence reigns, 
A,nd scarce a breeze disturbs the sleeping plains. 

Last, yet not less, in majesty of phrase, 
He draws the full-orb'd moon's expansive blaze ; 
The waving meteors, trembling from on high, 
"With all the mute artill'ry of the sky : 
Systems on systems, which in order roil, 
And dart their lambent beams from pole to pole. 

Hail, mighty genius ! whose excursive soul 
No bounds confine, no limits can control: 
Whose eye expatiates, and whose mind can rove, 
Thro' earth, tiiro' xther, and the realms above : 
From things inanimate can direct the rod,* 
In just gradation, to ascend to God. 
Taught by thy lines, see hoa:y age grows wise, 
And all the rebel in his bosom dies ; 
E'en thoughtless youth, in luxury of blood, 
Fly the infectious world, and dure — be good : 
Thy sacred truths shall reach th' impervious heart; 
Discord shall cease, disease forget to smart; 
E'en malice love, and calumny commend ; 
Pride beg an alms, and av'rice turn a friend. 

Centred in Christ, who fares the soul within, 
The flesh shall know no pain ; the soul no sin : 
E'en in the terrors of expiring breath, 
We bless the friendly atroke, and live— in death. 

Oxford, April 28, 1748. 



BY A PHYSICIAN. 

CELESTIAL Meditant ! whose ardours rise 
Deep from the tombs, and kindle to the skies ; 
How shall an earthly bard's profaner string 
Resound the nights of thy seraphic wing ? 
When great Elijah, in the fiery car, 
Flam'd visible to heav'n, a living star, 

* An allusion to the custom of shewing curious objects, ;md j>artietrfariziB£ 
their respective delicacies, by tlie pointing of a ml 



A seer remain'd to thunder what he knew, 

And with his mantle caught his spirit too. 
Wit, fancy, fire, and elegance, have long 

Been lost in vicious or ignoble song : 

Sunk from the chastely grand, the pure sublime, 

They flatter'd wealth and pow'r, or murder'd time, 

'Tis thine their devious lustre to reduce, 

To prove their noblest pow'r, their genuine use ; 

From earth-born fumes to clear their tainted aim, 

And point their flight to heav'n from whence they came* 

O more than bard in prose ! to whom belong 

Harmonious style and thought, in rhymeless song ; 

Oft, by thy friendly conduct, let me tread ' 

The softly-whisp'ring mansions of the dead: 

Where the grim form, calcining hinds and lords, 

Grins at each fond distinction pride records. 

Dumb, with immortal energy they teach ; 

Lifeless, they threaten ; mould'ring as they preach 

To each succeeding age, thro' ev'ry clime. 
The span of life, and endless round of time : 
Hence may propitious melancholy flow, 
And safety find me in the vaults of wo. 

While ev'ry virtue forms thy mental feast, 
I glow with fair sincerity at least : 
I feel (thy face unknown) thy heart refin'd, 
And taste, with bliss, the beauties of thy mind ; 
Collecting clearly, thro' thy sacred plan, 
What reverence of God ! what love to man ! 
— Oh ! when at last our deathless forms shall rise, 
And flow'rs and stars desist to moralize ; 
Shall then my soul, by thine inform'd, survey, 
And bear the splendours of essential dav ? 
But while my. thoughts indulge the glorious scope, 
{My utmost worth beneath my humblest hope) 
C nsc ence, or some exhorting angel, cries, 
te No lazy wishes reach above the skies. 
h Would you indeed the perfect scenes survey, 
*f And share the triumphs of unbounded day ;" 
*' His love -diffusive life with ardour live ; 
W And die like this divine contemplative .** 

London, July 9, lf48 



BY A PHYSICIAN. 

TO form the taste, and raise the nobler part, 
To mend the morals, and to warm the heart ; 
To trace tne genial source, we Nature call, 
And prove the God of Nature friend of all ; 
Hervey for this his mental landscape drew, 
And sketch'd the whole creation out to view. 

Th' enamell'd bloom, and variegated flow'r, 
Whose crimson changes with the changing hour : 
The humble shrub, whose fragance scents the morn, 
With buds disclosing to the early dawn ; 
The oaks that grace Britannia's mountain side, - 
And spicy Lebanon's superior pride ;* 
All loudly sov'reign excellence proclaim, 
And animated worlds confess the same. 

The azure fields that form th' extended sky, 
The planetary globes that roll on high, 
And solar orbs, of proudest-biaze, combine, 
To act subservient to the great design. 
Men, angels, seraphs, join the gen'ral voice : 
And in the Lord of Nature all rejoice 

His, the grey winter's venerable guise, 
Its shrowded glories, and instructive skies ;f 
His, the snow's plumes, that brood the sick'ning blade ; 
His, the bright pendant that impearls the glade ; 
The waving forest, or the whisp'ring brake ; 
The surging billow, or the sleeping lake. 
The same, who pours the beauties of the spring, 
Or mounts the whirlwind's desolating wing. 
The same, who smiles in Nature's peaceful form, 
Frowns in the tempest, and directs the storm 

'Tis thine, bright teacher, to improve the age ; 
'Tis thine, whose life's a comment on thy page ; 
Thy happy page ! whose periods sweetly flow, 
Whose figures charm us, and whose colours glow ; 
Where artless piety pervades the whole, 
Refines the genius, and exalts the soul. 
For let the witling argue all he can, 
It is religion still that makes the man. 
'Tis this, my friend, that streaks our morning bright, 
'Tis this that gilds the horrors of our night. 

* Tke Cedar. t Referring to the Winter-piece. 



When wealth forsakes us, and when friends are few ; 

When friends are faithless, or when foes pursue : 

'Tis this, that wards the blow, or stills the smart ; 

Disarms affliction, or repels its dart ; 

Within the breast bids purest rap Lure rise ; 

Bids smiling conscience spread her- cloudless skies. 

When the storm thickens, and the thunder rolls, 
When the earth trembles to th' affrighted poles; 
The virtuous mind, nor doubts nor fears assail ; 
For storms are zephyrs, or a gentler gale. 

And when disease obstructs the lab'ring breath, 
When the heart sickens,^ and each pulse is death ; 
E'en then religion shall sustain the just, 
Grace their last moments, nor desert their dust. 

August 5, ir48. 



AS some new star attracts th' admiring sight, 
His splendours pouring thro, the helds of l^ght, 
Whose nights, delighted with th' unusual rays, 
On the fair heav'nly visitant we gaze. 
So thy fam'd volumes sweet surprise impart : 
Mark'd by all eyes, and felt in ev'ry heart. 
Nature inform'd by thee, new paths has trod, 
And rises, here, a preacher for her God ; 
By fancy's aids, mysterious heights she tries, 
And lures us by our senses, to the skies. 
To deck thy style collected graces throng, 
Bold as the pencil's tints, yet soft as song, 
In themes, how ricb/thy veins ! how pure thy choice I 
Transcripts of truths, own'd clear from scripture's voice i 
Thy judgment these, and piety attest, 

Transcripts read only fairer in thy breast. 

There what thy works would shew, we best may see, * 
And all they teach in doctrine, lives in thee. 

O might they live ! — Our prayers their strife engage j 
But thy fix'd langours yield us sad presage. 
In vain skill'd Med'cine tries her healing art : 
Disease, long foe, entrenches at thy heart. 
Yet on new labours still thy mind is prone, 
Tor a world's good too thoughtless of thy own, 



Active, like day's kind orb, life's course you run, 
Its spheres still glorious, thro' a setting- sun. 
Redemption opes thee wide her healing plan, 
Health's only balm ; her sov'reign'st gift to man. 
Themes sweet like these thy ardours fresh excite : 
Warm at the soul, they nerve thy hand to write ; 
Make thy try'd virtues in their charms appear, 
Patience, rais'd hope, firm faith, and love sincere : 
Like a big constellation, bright they glow, 
And beam out lovelier by thy night of wo. 

Known were thy merits to the public long, 
Ere own'd thus feebly in my humble song. 
Damp'd are my fires ; my heart dark cares depress ; 
A heart, too feeling from its own distress. 
Proud on thy friendship, yet to build my fame, 
I gain'd my page * a sanction from thy name. 
Weak these returns (by gratitude tho' led) 
Where mine shall in thy fav'rite leaves be read. 
Yet o'er my conscious meanness hope prevails j 
Love gives me merit, where my genius fails. 
On its strong base my small desert I raise, 
Averse to flattery as unskill'd to praise. 

^ MOSES BROWN. 

Mile -End Green, 7 
Feb. 23, 1749. 5 



WHENCE flow these solemn sounds ? this raptur'd strain ? 
Cherubic notes my wond'ring ear detain ! 
Yet 'tis a mortal's voice : 'Tis Hervey sings j 
Sublime he soars on contemplation's wings : 
In ev'ry period breathes ecstatic thought, 
Hekvey, 'twas Heav'n thy sacred lessons taught. 
Celestial visions bless thy studious hours, 
Thy lonely walks, and thy sequester'd bow'rs. 

What favourite pow'r dispensing secret aids, 
Thy cavern'd cell, thy curtain'd couch, pervades \ 
Still hov'ring near, observant of thy themes 
In whispers prompts thee, or inspires thy dreams I 
Jesus \ effulgence of paternal light '. 
Ineffably divine ! supremely bright ! 

* SurHlay-ThovgUt^ 



Whose energy according worlds attest, 
Kindled these ardours in thy glowing- breast, 
We catch thy flame, as we thy page peruse ; 
And faith in ev'ry object Jesus views. 
W e in the bloomy breathing garden trace 
Somewhat — like emanations of his grace : 
Yet must all sweetness and all beauty yield, 
Idume's grove, and Sharon's flow'ry field, 
Compar'd with Jesus, meanly, meanly shows 
The brightest lily, faint the lovliest rose. 

Divine instructor '.lead thro' midnight glooms, 
To moralizing stars, and preaching tombs : • 
Thro' the still void a Saviour's voice shall break, 
A ray from Jacob's star the darkness streak : 
To him the fairest scenes their lustre owe : 
His cov'nant brightness the celestial bow ; 
His vast benevolence profusely spreads 
The yellow harvest and the verdant meads. 
Thy pupil, Hervey, a Redeemer finds 
In boundless oceans, and in viewless winds : 
He reins at will the furious blasts, and guides 
The rending tempest, and the roaring tides. 
O give, my soul, thy welfare to his trust : 
Who rais'd the world, can raise thy sleeping dust ; 
He will, he will, when nature's course is run, 
'Midst falling stars, and an extinguished sun ; 
He will with myriads of his saints appear, 
O may I join them, tho' the meanest there ! 

Tho' nearer to the throne my Hervey sings ; 
Tho' I at humbler distance strike the strings ; 
Yet both shall mingle in the same employ, 
Both drink the fulness of eternal joy. 



Clerken well- Green, "> 
Feb. 24, 1749—50- 5 



JOHN DVlCh 



WHAT numbers of our race survey 
The monarch of the golden day, ~ 
Night's ample canopy unfurl' d, 
In gloomy grandeur round the world, 
The earth in Spring's embroid'ry drest, 
And ocean's ever- working breast ! 

Vol. I, B 



And still no grateful honours raise 

To him who spreads the spacious skies, 

Who hung the air-suspended ball, 

And lives, and reigns, and shines, in all ! 

To chase our sensual logs away, 
And bright to pour th' eternal ray 
Of Deity inscrib'd around 
Wide Nature to her utmost bound, 
Is Hervey's task : and well his skill 
Celestial can the task fulfil i 
Ascending from these scenes below, 
Ardent the Maker's praise to show, 
His sacred contemplations soar, 
And teach our wonder to adore. 

Now he surveys the realms beneath, 
The realms of horror, and of death ; 
Now entertains his vernal hours 
In flow'ry walks and blooming bow'rs ; 
Now hails the black-brow'd night, that brings 
jttherial dews upon her wings ; 
Now marks the planets, as they roll 
On burning axles round the pole : 
While tombs, and flow'rs, and shades, and stars, 
Unveil their sacred characters 
Of justice, wisdom, pow'r and love ; 
And lift the soul to realms above, 
Where dwells the God, in glory crown'd, 
Who sends his boundless influence round. 

So Jacob, in his blissful dreams, 
Array'd in heavn's refulgent beams, 
Saw from the ground a scale arise, 
Whose summit mingled with the skies : 
Angels were pleas'd to pass the road, 
The stage to earth, and path to God. 

Hervey, proceed : For Nature yields - 
Fresh treasure in her ample fields : 
And in seraphic ecstacy 
Still bear us to the throne on high. 
Ocean's wild wonders next explore, 
His changing scenes, and secret store ; 
Or let dire earthquake claim thy toil, 
Earthquake, that shakes a guilty isle. 

So, if small things may shadow forth, 
Dear man, thy labours, and thy worth, 



The bee upon the ffbw'ry lawn 
Inbibes the lucid drops of dawn, 
Works them in his mysterous mould, 
And turns the common dew to gold. 

x THOMAS GIBBONS, 

London, . 7 
26, 1791.5 



DELIGHTFUL Author! whom t^ 
And whispering angels with their ardours fire ! 
From youth like mine, wilt thou accept of praise 
Or smile with candour on a stripling's lays I 
My little laurel (but a snoot at most) 
Has hardly more than one small wreath to boast. 
Such as it is — (ah ! might it worthier be !) 
Its scanty foliage all is due to thee. 
Oh 2 if, amongst the honours of thy brow, 
This slender circlet may but humbly grow : 
If its faint verdure haply may Snd place — 
A foil to others ; — tho' its own disgrace ; 
Accept it, Hervey, from a. heart sincere ; 
And for the giver's sake — the tribute wear. 

Thy soul-improving works perus'd, what tongue 
Can hold from praise, or check th' applausive song 
But ah ■ from whence shall gratitude obtain 
Language that may its glowing zeal explain ? 
How to such wondrous worth adapt a strain ? 
Describ'd by thee, cold sepulchres can charm ; 
Storms calm the soul; and freezing winter warm. 
Clear'd from her gloomy shades, we view pale night 
Surrounded with a blaze of mental light. 
Lo ! where she comes ! all silent ! pensive ! slow ! 
On her dark robe unnumber'd meteors glow ! 
High on her head a starry crown she wears ! 
Bright in her hand the lamp of Reason.bears ! 
Smiling — behold! she points the soul to Heav'n, 
And bids the weeping sinner be forgiv'n ! 

But when thy fancy shifts this solemn scene, 
And ruddy morning gilds the cheerful green ; 
With sudden joy we view the prospect changed, 
And blushing sweets in beauteous order rangM 



U 



We see the vi'lcts ; smell die dewy rose, 

And each perfume that from the woodbine flows - 

A boundless perspective there greets our eyes ; 

Rich vales descend, and verdant mountains rise. 

The shepherds cottages, the rural folds : 

All that thy art describes, the eye beholds! 

Amazing^ Limner '.whence this matchless pow'r : 
Thy work's a garden ! — ev'ry word, a flow'r ! 
Thy lovely tints almost the bloom excel, 
And none but Nature's self can paint so well ! 

Hail, holy man ! henceforth thy work shall stand; 

(Like some fair column by a master-hand, 
Which, whilst it props, adorns the tow'rir.g pile) 
At once to grace, and elevate our isle. 
Tho' simple, lofty ; tho' majestic/»^piain ; 
Whose, bold design the rules of art restrain. 
In which the nicest eye sees nothing wrong; 
Tho' polish'd, just ; and elegant, tho' strong. 

ST. GEORGE MOLESWORTH. 

June 24, 1750. 



IN pleasure's lap the muses long have lain, 
And hung, attentive, on her Syren strain : 
Still toils the bard beneath some weak design, 
And puny thought but halts along the line : 
Or tuneful nothings, stealing on the mind, 
Melt into air, nor leave a trace behind. 
While to thy rapt'rous prose, we feel belong 
The strength of wisdom and the voice of song : 
This lifts the torch of sacred- truth on high, 
And points the captives to their native sky. 

How false the joys, which earth or sense inspires, 
That clog the soul, and damp her purer fires ! " 
Truths, which thy solemn scenes, my friend, declare, 
Whose glowing colours paint us as we are. 
Yet not morosely stern, nor idly gay, 
Dull melancholy reigns, or trifles sway ; 
111 would the strain of levity befit, 
And sullen gloom but sadden all thy wit : 
Truth, judgment, sense, imagination join ; 
And ey'ry muse, and ev'ry grace, is thine. 






Religion prompting 1 the true end of mai>, 
Conspiring genius executes the plan ; 
Strong to convince, and elegant to charm, 
Plaintive to melt, or passionate to warm. 
Rais'd by degrees, we elevate our aim ; 
And grow immortal as we catch thy flame ; 
True piety informs our languid hearts, 
And all the vicious, and the vain, departs. 
So, when foul spreading fogs creep slowly on, 
Blot the fair morn, and hide the golden sun ; 
Ardent he pours the boundless blaze of day, 
Rides thro' the sky, and shines the mist away. 
O ! had it been th' Almighty's gracious will, 
That I had shard a portion of thy skill ; 
Had this poor breast reeeiv'd the heav'nly beam 
Which spreads its lustre thro' thy various theme ; 
That speaks deep lessons from the silent tomb, 
And crowns thy garden with fresh -springing bloom ; 
Or, piercing thro' creation's ample whole, 
Now sooths the night, or gilds the starry pole ; 
Or marks how winter calls her howling train, 
Her snows and storms, that desolate the plain ; """ 
With thee the muse sMall trace the pleasing road, 
That leads from Nature up to Nature's God ; 
Humble to learn, and, as she knows the more, 
Glad to obev, and happy to adore. 

PETER WHALEY, 
Northampton, "> 

August 25, 1750. $ 



B-2 



MEDITATIONS 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 



EN A LETTER TO A LADY. 



TRAVELLING lately into Cornwall, I happened to 
alight at a considerable village in that county ; where finding 
myself under an unexpected necessity of staying a little, I 
took a walk to the church.* The doors, like the heaven to 
which they lead, were wide open, and readily admitted an 
unworthy stranger. Pleased with the opportunity, I resolved 
to spend a few minutes under the sacred roof. 

In a situation so retired and awful, I could not avoid falling 
into a train of meditations, serious and mournfully pleasing : 
which, I trust, jftere in some degree profitable to me, while 
they possessed and warmed my thoughts ; and if they may 
administer any satisfaction to you, Madam, now they are re- 
collected, and committed to writing, I shall receive a fresh 
pleasure from them. 

It was an ancient pile; reared by hands, that, ages ago, 
were mouldered into dust. Situate in the centre of a large 

* I had named, in some former editions, a particular church, viz. Kilkhamp- 
ton ; where several of the monuments, described in the following pages, really ex- 
ist. But as I thought it convenient to mention some cases here, which are not, 
according to the best of my remembrance, referred to in any insciiptions there, 
I have now omitted the name ; that imagination might operate more freely, and 
the improvement of the reader be consulted, without any thing that should look 
like a variation from truth and feet. 



W MEDITATIONS 

b urial- ground ; remote from all the noise and hurry of tumul- 
tuous life. The body spacious, the structure lofty; the whole 
magnificently plain. A row of regular pillars extended them- 
selves through the midst ; supporting the roof with simplicity, 
and with dignity — The light, that passed through the win- 
dows, seemed to shed a kind of luminous obscurity; which 
g-ave every object a grave and venerable a:r. — The deep si- 
lence added to the gloomy aspect, and both heightened by 
the loneliness of the place, greatly increased the solemnity of 
the scene. — A sort of religious dread stole insensibly on my 
mind, while 1 advanced, all pensive and thoughtful, along the 
inmost isle ; such a dread, as hushed every ruder passion, 
and dissipated all the gay images of an alluring world. 

Having adored that Eternal Majesty, who, far from being 
confined to temples made with hands, has heaven for his 
throne, and the earth for his footstool, — 1 took particular no- 
tice of a handsome altar-piece -, presented, as I was afterwards 
informed, by the master-builders of Stow ;* out of gratitude, 
I presume, to that gracious God, who carried them through 
their work, and enabled them to " bring forth their top-stone 
with joy." 

O ! how amiable is gratitude ! especially when it has the 
supreme Benefactor for its object I have always looked up- 
on gratitude, as the most exalted principle that ean actuate 
the heart of man. It has something noble, disinterested, and 
(if I maybe allowed the term) generously devout. Repent- 
ance indicates our nature fallen, and prayer turns chiefly upon 
a regard to one's self: but the exercises of gratitude subsist- 
ed in paradise, when there was no fault to deplore ; and will 
be perpetuated in heaven, when " God shall be all in all/' 

The language of this sweet temper is, " I am unspeakably 
obliged ; what return shall I make." — And- surely, it is no 
improper expression of an unfeigned thankfulness, to decorate 
our Creator's courts, and beautify " the place where his honour 
dwelleth." Of old, the habitation of his feet was glorious : let 
it not, now, be sordid or contemptible. 4t must grieve an in- 
genuous mind, and be a reproach to any people, to have their, 
own houses wainscotted with cedar, and painted with vermil- 

* The name of a grand seat, belonging to the late Earl of Bath ; remark- 
able formerly for i) s excellent workmanship, and elegant furniuire ; once of tht- 
principle resort of the quality and gentry of the west ; but now demolished, laid 
even with tbe ground, and scarce one stone left upon another.— So that cotb 
aiay grow, or otttle? spring where Stew lately stood. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 

?mple of the Lord of hosts is destitute of 
every decent ornament. 

Here I recollected, and was charmed with Solomon's fine 
address to the Almighty, at the dedication of his famous tem- 
ple. With immense charge, and exquisite skill, he had erect- 
ed the most rich and finished structure, that the sun ever saw. 
Yet, upon a review of his work, and a reflection on the tran- 
sit perfections of the Godhead, how it exalts the one, 
>ases the .other ! — The building- was too glorious, for the 
mightiest monarch to inhabit ; too sacred, for unhallowed feet 
even to enter ; jet infinitely too mean, for the Deity to reside 
in. It was, and the royal worshipper acknowledged it to be, a 
most marvellous vouchsafement in uncreated Excellency, to 
i( put his name there."— The whole passage breathes such a 
delicacy, and is animated with such a sublimity of sentiment, 
that I cannot persuade myself to pass on without repeating it, 
" But will God indeed dwell on earth ? Behold, the heaven, 
and heaven of heavens, cannot contain thee ; how much less 
this house that I have buikled." * Incomparable saying! 
worthy the wisest of men. Who would not choose to possess 
such an elevated devotion, rather than to own all the glitter- 
ing* materials of that sumptuous edifice ? 

We are apt to be struck with admiration, at the stateliriess 
and grandeur of a masterly performance in architecture. And 



* 1 Kings riii. 27. But vrill: A fine abrupt beginning, most significant- 
3y describing the amazement and rapture of tH»»royal prophet's mind?— 
God: He uses no epithet, where writers of inferior discernment would 
have been found to multiply them ; but speaks of the Deity, as an incom- 
prehensible Being, whose perfections and glories are exalted above all 
praise.— Dwell : To bestow on sinful creatures a propitious look; to fa- 
vour them with a transient visit of kindness ; even this were an unutter- 
able obligation. Will he then vouchsafe to fix his abode among them , and 
take up Ids stated resdence with them?— Indeed: A word, in tins connec- 
tion, particularly emphatical ; expressive of a condescension, wonderful 
and extraordinary almost beyond all credibility.— Behold! Intimating the 
continued, or rather the increasing surprise of the speaker, and awaken- 
ing the attention of the hearer. — Behold: the heaven: The spacious con- 
cave of the firmameift ; tliat wide-extended azure circumference, in which 
worlds unnumbered perform their revolutions, is too scanty an apartment 
for the Godhead.— Xay, the heaven uf heavens : Those vastly higher tracts, 
■which he far beyond the limits of human survey; to widen our very 
Thoughts can hardly soar ; even these, unboimded as they are, cannot af- 
ford an adequate habitation for Jehovah : even these dwindle into a point, 
when compared with the infinitude of his essence ; even these '" are as no- 
thing before him."— H«w much less proportionate is this poor diminutive 
;peck: which I have been erecting and embellishing; to so august a Pre* 
o immense a Majesty J 



22 MEDITATIONS 

perhaps, on a sight of the ancient sanctuary, should have made 
the superficial observation of the disciples; " What manner 
of stones, and what buildings are here ':" — But what a nobler 
turn of thought, and juster taste of thing's, does it discover ; 
to join with Israel's king, in celebrating the condescension of 
the divine inhabitant ! That the high and lofty One, who fills 
immensity with his glory, should, in a peculiar manner, fix 
his abode there! Should there manifest an extraordinary de- 
gree of his benedictive presence ; permit sinful mortals to 
approach his Majesty*; and promise "to make them joyful 
in his house of prayer!" — This should more sensibly affect 
our hearts, than the most curious arrangement of stones can 
delight our eyes. 

Nay, the everlasting 1 God decs not disdain to dwell in our 
souls by !jis Holy Spirit; and to make even our bodies his 
(temple. — Tell me, ye that frame critical judgments, and ba- 
lance nicely the distinction of things ; "is this most astonish- 
ing, or most rejoicing ?" — He humbleth himself, the scriptures 
e us, even to behold the. things that are in heaven.* It 
is a most condescending favour, If he pleases to take the least 
approving notice of angels and archangels, when they bow 
down in homage from their celestial thrones. Will he then 
graciously regard, will he be united, most intimately- united 
to poor, polluted, breathing dust ? — Unparralleled honour! In- 
valuable privilege ! Be this my portion, and I shall not covet 
crowns, nor envy conquerors. 

But let me remember, what a sanctity of disposition,- and 
up-ightness/ of conversation, so exalted a relation demands ; 
remember this, "and rejoice with trembling." — Durst I com- 
mit any iniquity, while I tread these hallowed courts ? Could 
the Jewish high-priest allow himself in any known transgres- 
sion, while he made that solemn yearly entrance j into the 
holy of holies, and stood before the immediate presence of 
Jehovah ? No, truly. In such circumstances, a thinking 
person must shudder at the most remote solicitation, to any 
wilful offence. I should now be shocked at the least inde- 
cency of behaviour, and am apprehensive of every appear- 
ance of evil. — And why do we not carry this holy jealousy 
into all our ordinary life I Why do we not, in every place, t 



t — ■ TtxtTxv oe [jix\is aisy.vizo er a.v rsy, to the favourite 

nuutiuji of Pythagoras, and supposed to be oae of the best moral prectpu ever 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 23 

:i\ce ourselves, as persons dedicated to the Divinity, as 
living temples of the Godhead ? For, if we are real, and not 
merely nominal Christians, the God of glory, according to 
his own promise, dwells in us, and walks in us. * — O ! that 
this one doctrine of our religion might operate with an abiding 
efficacy upon our consciences ! It would be instead of a thou- 
sand laws, to regulate our conduct j instead of a thou- 
sand natives, to quicken us in holiness. Under the influence 
of such a conviction, we should study to v maintain a purity of 
intention ; a dignity of action ; and to walk worthy of that tran- 
scendently Majestic Being, who admits us to a fellowship 
with himself and with his son Jesus Christ. 

The next thing which engaged my attention, was the letter- 
ed floor. The pavement, somewhat, like EzekiePs roll, was 
written over from one end to the other. I soon perceived the 
comparison to hold good in another respect, and the inscrip- 
tions to be matter of "mourning, lamentation, and woe." j 
They seemed to court my observation ; silently inviting me to 
read them. And what would these dumb monitors inform me 
of ? — " That, beneath their little circumferences, were de- 
*f posited such and such pieces of clay, which once, lived, and 
" moved, and talked : That they had. received a charge to 
* f preserve their .names, and were the remaining trustees ex 
" their memory." 

Ah, said I, is such my situation ! the adorable Creator 
around me, and the bones of my fellow-creatures under me ! 
Surely, then, I have great reason to cry out, with the rever- 
ing patriarch, " How dreadful is this place '.'4 Seriousness 
and devotion become this house for ever. May I never enter it 
lightly or irreverently; but with a profound awe and godly fear ! 

O! that they were wise ?§ said the inspired penman. It ' 
was his last wish for his dear people. Ke breathed it out, and 
gave up the ghost — But what is wisdom I It consists not in 
refined speculations, accurate researches into nature, or an 
universal acquaintance with history. The divine lawgiver 
settles this important point, in his nest aspiration : O! that 



given to the Heathen world- With what superior force, and very singular 
advantage, does the argument take place in the Christian scheme ! where 
we are taught to regard ourselves, not merely as intellectual beings, who 
have reason for our monitor; but as consecrated creatures, who haA'e a God 
of the most consummate perfection ever with us, ever in us. 

*2Cor. vi. 16. f Ezek. ii. 10. T Gtn, xxviii. 27. 

§ Deut. xxxu. 29. 



24 MEDITATIONS 

they understood this ! that they had right apprehensions of 
their spiritual interests, and eternal concerns ! that they had 
eyes to discern, and inclinations to pursue, the things which 
belong to their peace ! — But how shall they attain this valu- 
able knowledge ? I send them not adds the illustrious teacher, 
to turn over all the volumes of literature ; they may acquire, 
and much more expeditiously, this science of" life, by consi- 
dering their latter end. This spark of heaven is often lost, 
under the glitter of pompous erudition ; but shines clearly, in 
the gloomy mansions of the tomb. Drowned is this gentle 
whisper, amidst the noise of secular affairs ; but speaks dis- 
tinctly, in the retirements of serious contemplation. — Behold ! 
how providentially I am brought to the school of wisdom ! * 
The grave is the most faithful master ; f and these instances 
of mortality, the most instructive lessons — Come then, calm 
attention, and compose my thoughts; come, thou celestial 
Spirit, and enlighten my mind ; that I may so peruse these 
awful pages, as to become " wise unto salvation." 

Examining the records of mortality, I found the memorials 
of a promiscuous multitude. $ They were huddled, at least 
they rested, together, without any regard to rank or seniority. 
None were ambitious of the uppermost rooms, or chief seats, 
in this house of mourning. None entertained fond and eager 
expectations of being honourably greeted in their darksome 
cells. The man of years and experience, reputed as an oracle 
in his generation, was content to lie down at the feet of a 
babe. In this house appointed for all living, the servant was 
equally accomodated, and lodged in the same story, with his 
master. The poor indigent lay as softly, and slept as soundly, 
as the most opulent possessor. All the distinction that sub- 
sisted, was a grassy hillock, bound with osiers ; or a sepul- 
chral stone ornamented with imagery. 

Why then, said my working- thoughts, O ! why should we 
raise such a mighty stir about superiority and precedence, 
when the next remove will reduce us all to a state of equal 
meanness ? Why should we exalt ourselves, or debase others ; 

* The man how wise, who sick of gaudy scenes, 
Is led by choice to take his fav'rite walk 
Beneath death's gloomy, silent, cypress shades, 
Unpierc'd by vanity's fantastic ray ! 
To read his monuments, to vreighhia dust, 
Visit his vaults, arid dwell among the tombs. 

Wait the great teacher Death. Pope. 

I s^Bura ae juvseuiq densantur fiinera.— - Hor. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 

\vc roust all, one day, be upon a common level, and blend- 
ed together in the same undistinguished dust? O! that this 
consideration might humble my own, and others pride ; and 
sink our imaginations as low, as our habitation will shortly 

Among- these confused relics of humanity, there are, -with- 
out doubt, persons of contrary interests, and contradicting sen- 
timents. But death, like some able days-man, has laid his 
hand on the contending* parties; and brought all their differences 
to an amicable conclusion.* Here enemies, sworn enemies, 
dwell together in unity. They drop every embittered thought 
and forget that they once were foes. Perhaps, their crumbling 
bones mis as they moulder ; and those who, while they lived, 
stood aloof in irreconcilable variance., here fail into mutual 
embraces, and even incorporate with each other in the grave. 
— O ! that we might learn from these friendly ashes, not to 
perpetuate the memory of injuries ; not to foment the fever. 
of resentment, nor cherish the turbulence of passion ; that 
there may be as lirtle animosity and disagreement in the land 
of the living, as there is in the congregation of the dead ■!-— 
But I suspend for a while such general observations, and ad- 
dress myself to a more particular enquiry. 

Yonder white stone, emblem of the innocence itcovers, in- 
forms the beholder of one, who breathed out its tender soul, 
almost in the instant of receiving it.— -There, the peaceful 
infant, without so much as knowing w^jvat labour and vexa- 
tion mean, " lies still and is quiet ; it sleeps and is at rest.'-'j 
Staying 1 only to wash away its native impurity in the laver of , 
regeneration, it bid a speedy adieu to time, and terrestrial - 
things. — What did the little hasty sojourner find so forbidding 
and disgustful in our upper work! to occasion its precipitant 
exit? It is written, indeed, of its suffering Saviour, that when 
he had tasted the vinegar mingled with gall, he would not 
drink.± And did our new-come stranger begin to sip the cup 
of life; but, perceiving the bitterness, turn away its head and 
refuse the draught ? Was this the cause why the weary babe 
only opened its eyes, just looked on the light, and then with- 
drew into the more inviting regions of undisturbed repose ? 

* Hi motus animoruin, atque hsec certamina tanta, 
Pulreris exigui jaetu compressa quiescent. •?"'£■■ 

+ fob. iii. IS, % Matth. SXrii. 34. 

C 



26 MEDITATIONS 

Happy voyager ! no sooner launched, than arrived at the 
haven!* But more eminently happy they, who have passed 
the waves, and weathered all the storms, of a troublesome and 
dangerous world! who, " through many tribulations, have 
" entered into the kingdom of heaven ;" and thereby brought 
honour to their divine convoy, administered comfort to the 
companions of their toil, and" left an instructive example to 
succeeding pilgrims. 

Highly favoured probationer ! accepted without being' ex- 
ercisedj — It was thy peculiar privilege, not to feel the slight- 
est of those evils, which oppress thy surviving kindred ; which 
frequently fetch groans, from the most manly fortitude, or 
most elevated faith. The arrows of calamity, barbed with an- 
guish, are often fixed deep in our choicest comforts. The fiery 
darts of temptation, shot from the hand of hell, are always 
flying in showers around our integrity. To thee, sweet babe, 
both these distresses and dangers were alike unknown. 

Consider, this, ye mourning parents, and dry up your tears. 
Why should you lament, that your little ones are crowned 
with victory, "before the sword was drawn, or the conflict be- 
gun ? — Perhaps the Supreme Disposer of events foresaw some 
inevitable snare of temptation forming, or some dreadful 
storm of adversity impending. And why should you be so dis- 
satisfied with that kind precaution, which housed your plea- 
santplant, andremoved into shelter a tender flower, before the 
thunders roared; before the lightnings flew; before the 
tempest poured its y»ege ? — O remember ! they are not lost, 
but taken away from the evil to come.f 

At the same time, let survivors, doomed to bear the heat 
and burden of the da)-, for their encouragement reflect — That 
it is more honourable to have entered the lists, and to have 
fought the good fight, before they come off conquerors. They 
who have borne the cross, and submitted to afflictive provi- 
dences, with a cheerful resignation, have girded up the- loins 
of their mind, and performed their master's will with an ho- 
nest and persevering fidelity :— -These having glorified their 
Redeemer on earth, will probably be as stars of the first mag- 
nitude in heaven. They will shine with brighter beams, be 

Happy the babe, who, privileer'd by fate 

To shorter labour, ana a lighter weight, 

Received but yesterday the gift of breath, 

Order'd tomorrow to return to death. — — Prior t S>J. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 27 

ished with stronger joys, in their Lord's everlasting 1 
kingdom. 

Here lies the grief of a fond mother, and theblastedexpec- 
tation of an indulgent father. — The youth grew up, like a well- 
watered plant ; he shot deep, rose high, and bade fair for man- 
hood. But just as the cedar began to tower, and promised, 
ere long, to be the pride of the wood, and prince among the 
neighbouring trees — behold! the axe is laid unto the root; 
the fatal blow struck ; and all its branching honours tumbled 
to the dust — And did he fall alone 1 No : the hopes of his fa- 
ther that begat hiro, and the pleasing prospects of her that 
bare him, fell, and were crushed together with him. 

Doubtless it would have pierced one's heart, to have beheld 
the tender parents following the breathless youth to his long 
home. Perhaps drowned in tears, and all overwhelmed with 
sorrows they stood, like weeping statues, on this very spot. 
— Methinks, I see the deeply-distressed mourners attending 
1 solemnity. How they wring their hands, and pour 
floods from their eyes 1 — Is it fancy ! or do I really hear the 
mether, in an agony of affliction, taking her final 
leave of the darling of her soul ? Dumb she remained, while 
the awful obsequies were performing; dumb with grief, and 
leaning upon the partner of her woesk But now the inward 
anguish struggles for vent ; it grows too big- to be repressed. 
She advances to the brink of the grave. All her soul is in. 
her eyes. She fastens one more look upon the dear doleful 
object, before the pit shuts its mouth upon him. And as she: 
looks, she cries ; — in broken accents, interrupted by many a 
rising sob, she cries, " Farewell, my son ! my son! my only 
" beloved ' would to God I had died for thee ! Farewell, my 
" child ! and farewell all earthly happiness! — I shall never 
<c more see good in the land of the living — Attempt not to 
" comfort me. — I will go mourning, all my days, till my grey 
11 hairs come down, with sorrow to the grave." 

From this affecting representation, let parents be convinced, 
how highly it-concerns them to cultivate the morals, and se- 

fte immortal interests of their children. If you really 

iq offspring of your bodies ; if, your bowels yearn oyer 
those amiable pledges of conjugal endearment ; spare no 
pains; give all diligence, I entreat you, "to bring them up 
•''in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.*' t Then may you 
have joy in their life, or consolation in their death. If thei 7 * 
span is prolonged ; their unblameable and useful conduct will 
be the staff of your age, and a balm for declining nature 
Or, if the number of their years be cut off in the raidsl 



2$ MEDITATIONS. 

may commit their remains to the dust, with much the 
comfortable expectations, and with infinitely more exalted 
views, than you. send the survivors to luces ojfgente.fi! educa- 
tion. You may commit them to the dust, with cheering- hopes 
of receiving- ta em again to your army, inexpressibly improved 
Jn every noble and endearing' accomplishment. 

It [s certainly a severe trial ; and much mere afflictive, than 
ible to imagine : to resign a lovely blooming creature, 
sprung from your own loins, to the gloomy recesses of cor- 
ruption. Tims to resign him, after having been longcl 
upon your knees ; united to your affections by a thousand ties 
of tenderness ; and now become both the del ighiofyour eyes, 
and the support ofyottt family ! To have such ;. c e torn from 
and thrown into "darkness ; doubtless, it must be 
like a dagger in your hearts. — But O ! haw much mere cut- 
ting to you, and confounding to the child, to have the soul 
■ iv. God; and, tefut ignorance, or early 

ud torment ! How - 

-ting emphasis to 
ir sighs, if you follow the corpse with these bitter reflec- 
tions ! — " This dear creature, though long ago capable of 
" knowing good from evil .;■ world, before it 

•« had learned the great design of coming into it. A short- 
-lived momentary existence itreceh ■- but no good 
" instructions, no tic ,'well- 
<; being in that eve: :.\ered. 
,; The poor body k < rricd out, to 
(< consume away in the c grave. And what reason 
"have I to suppose', that the precious soul is in a better ccn- 
i( ditioii ? May I not justly fear, that, sentenced by the ri 
" ous Judge, it is going or gone away, into the pains oi 
" less punishment ?— Perhaps, while I am bewailing its un. 
<•' timely departure, it may be cursing in outer darkness, 
i: ever to be deplored, that most calamitous day, when it was 
" born of such a careless, ungodly parent, as I have been." 

Nothing, I think, but the gnavvings of that worm which 
never dies, can equal the anguish, of these self-comic r.i 
thoughts. The tortures of a rack must be an easy suffering, 
compared with the stings and horror of such a remorse. — . 
How earnestly do I wish, that as many as are entrusted with 
the management of children, would take timely care to pre- 
vent these intolerable scourges of conscience ; by endeavour- 
ing to conduct their minds into an early knowledge of C '.. 
and a cordial love of his truth ? ^ 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 29 

On tliis hand is lodged one, whose sepulchral stone tells a 
most pitiable tale indeed! Well may the little images, reclined 
over the sleeping- ashes, hang- down their heads with that pen- 
sive air! None can consider so mournful a story, without 
feeling" some touches of sympathizing- concern. His ag-e 
twenty-eight j his death sudden; himself cut down in the 
prime of life, amidst ail the vivacity and vigour of manhood; 
while "hi3 breasts were full of milk, and his bones moistened { 
" with marrow." — Probably, he entertained no apprehensions 
of the evil hour. And indeed, who could have suspected, 
that so bright a sun should go down at noon ? To human ap- 
pearance, his hill stood strong. Length of days seemed 
written m his sanguine countenance. He solaced himself 
with the prospect of a long-, long series of earthly satisfac- 
tions When, lo ! an unexpected stroke descends ! descends 
from that mighty arm, which " overturneth the mountains 
by their roots ; and crushes the imaginary hero, before the 
moth ;"* as quickly, and more easily than our fingers press 
such a feeble fluttering insect to death. 

Perhaps the nuptial joys were all he thought on. — Were 
not such the breathings of his enamoured soul ? "' Yet a very 
** little while, and I shall possess the utmost of my wishes. 
". I shall call my charmer mine ; and, in her, enjoy whatever 

** my heart can crave.'' -In the midst of such enchanting 

views, had some faithful friend but softly reminded him of an 
opening grave, and the end of all thing- ; how unseasonable 
would he have reckoned the admonition ! Yet, though all 
warm with life, and rich in visionary bliss, he was even then 
tottering upon the brink of both. — Dreadful vicissitude ! to 
have the bridal festivity turned into the funeral solemnity !-{• 

* Job iv. 19. Ad imtar admodum tines?. 1 retain this interpretation, both 

a> it is most suitable to my purpose, and as it is patronised by* some eminent 
commentators, especially the celebrated Sehultens. Though I cannot but give 
the preference to the opinion of a judicious friend, who would render the pas- 
sage more literally, before the face of a moth; making it to represent a creature 
so exceedingly fraii. that even a moth, fiyine against it. may dash it to pieces. — 
Which, besides its closer correspondence" v. ith the exact import of the Hebrew, 
presents us v.ith a much finer image of the most extreme imbecility. For it 
certainly implies a far greater degree of weakness, to be crushed by the feeble 
flutter of the feeblest creature, than only to be crushed as easily as that creature, 
hy the hand of man.— The French version is very expressive and beautiful ; a la 
rencontre d'un vermisseau. 

t A distress of this kind is painted in very affecting colours by Pliny, in an 
epistle to Mareellimis ; O trine plane aetrbunique minis! O niorte ipsa inoms 

C2 



30 MEDITATIONS 

Deplorable misfortune ! to be shipwrecked in the vei'y haven ! 
and to perish even in sight of happiness ! — What a memora- 
ble proof is here of the frailty of man, in his best estate ! Lock, 
O look on this monument, ye gay, and careless ! Attend to 
this date ; and boast no more of to-morrow. 

Who can tell, but the bride-maids, girded with gladness, 
had prepared the marriage-bed ? had decked it with the richest 
covers, and dressed it in pillows of down ? When — (.)! trust not 
in youth, or strength, or in any thing mortal : for there is no- 
thing certain, nothing to be depended on beneath the un- 
changeable God: — Death, relentles death, is makinghim an- 
other kind of bed in the dust of the earth. Unto this he must 
be conveyed, not with a splendid procession of joyous attend- 
ants ; but stretched in the gloomy hearse, and followed by a 
train of mourners. On this he must take up a lonely lodging 
—-nor ever be released, " till the heavens are no more." — In 
rain does the consenting fair-one put on her ornaments, and 
expect her spouse. Did she not, like Sisera's mother, look 
out of the lattice ■, chide the delays of her beloved ; and won- 
der " why his chariot was so long in coming ?" — little think- 
ing, that the intended bridegroom had for ever done with 
transient things ? that now everlasting cares employ his mind, 
without one single remembrance of his lovely Lucinda! — Go, 
disappointed virgin ! go mourn the uncertainty of all created 
bliss ! Teach thy soul to aspire after a sure and immutable fe- 
licity ! for the once gay and gallant Fidelio sleeps in other 
embraces ; even in the icy arms of death ! Forgetful, eternally 
forgetful of the world — and thee. 

Hitherto, one is tempted to exclaim against the king of 
terrors, and call him capriciously cruel. He seems, by be- 
ginning at the wrong end of the register, to have inverted the 
laws of nature. Passing over the couch' of decrepit age, he 
Hias nipped infancy in its bud ; blasted youth in its bloom ; 
and torn up manhood in its full maturity — Terrible indeed 
are these providences, yet not unsearchable the counsels : 

For us they sicken, and for us they die.* 

t*mpus indignius! Jam destinata erategregio juveni; jam ejecttu nuptiarum 
dies ; jam nos advocati. Quod gaudium quo mcerore mutatum e*t .' Nou possum 
exprimere verbis, quantum ammo villous neeeperim, quum audivi Fundanum 
ipsum (ut multa luctuosa dolor invenit) prstcipientem, quod in vestes. mai-gari- 
tas. gemioAS: fuerat ejrogaturus. hoe in tuura, et unguenta, et odores, impende- 
mur, mn. lib. f. cpist. 26, 

• Sight Th.opgh.ts, 



AMONG TlfE TOMBS. 51 

Such strokes must not only grieve the relatives, but- sur- 
prise the whole neighbourhood — They sound a powerful alarm 
to heedless dreaming mortals, and are intended as a remedy 
for our carnal security Such passing-bells inculcate loudly 
our Lord's admonition : " Take ye heed, watch, and pray ; 
for ye know not when the time is."-— We nod, tike intoxi- 
cated creatures, upon- the very verge of a tremendous preci- 
pice. These astonishing dispensations are the kind messen- 
gers of Heaven ; to rouse us from our supineness, and quick- 
en us into timely circumspection. I need not, surely, accom- 
modate them with language, nor act as their interpreter. Let - 
every one*s conscience be awake, and this will appear their 
awful meaning :— -" O ! ye sons of men, in the midst of life 
" you are in death. No state, no circumstances, can aseer- 
*- tain your preservation a single moment. So strong is the 
e( tyrant's arm, that nothing'can resist its force ; so true his 
" aim . that nothing can elude the blow. Sudden as lightning-, 
(i sometimes, is his arrow launched; and wounds and kills in 
*' the twinkling of an eye. Never promise yourselves safety 
" in any expedient, but constant preparation. The fatal shafts 
iC fly so promiscuously, that none can guess the next victim. 
" Therefore, be ye always ready: for in such an hour, as ye 
"■ think not the final summons cometh." 

" Be ye .always ready : for in such an hour as ye think not—/' 
Important admonition! Methinks, it reverberates from se- 
pulchre to sepulchre ; and addresses me with line upon line, 
precept upon precept. The reiterated warning, I acknowledge, 
is too needful ; may co-operating grace render it effectual ! 
The momentous truth, though worthy to be engraved on the 
tables of a most tenacious memory, is but slightly sketched 
on the transient flow of passion. We see our neighbours fall ; 
we turn pale at the shock; and feel, perhaps, a trembling- 
dread. No sooner are they removed from our sight, but, driven 
in the whirl of business, or lulled in the langoursof pleasure, 
we forget the providence, and neglect its errand. The im- 
pression made on our unstable minds, is like the trace of an 
arrow, through the penetrated air; or the path of a keel, in 
the furrowed wave. — Strange stupidity! to cure it, another 
monitor bespeaks me, from a neighbouring stone. It contains 
the narrative of an unhappy mortal snatched from his friends, 
and hurried to the awful bar ; without leisure, either to take 
a last farewell of the one, or to put up so much as a single 
prayer preparatory for the other : killed, according to the 
usual expression, by a sudden stroke of casualty. 



$2 AiEDITATIONS. 

Was it then a random stroke ? Doubtles.-. came 

from an aiming, though invisible hand. God presideth over 
the armies of Sieaven ; God ruleth among the inhabitants of 
the earth ; and God conducted* what men call chance. No- 
thing, nothing comes to pass through a blind and undiscem- 
ing fatality. If accidents happen, they happen according to 
the exact fore -knowledge, and conformably to the determinate 
counsels of Eternal Wisdom. The Lord, with whom are the 
issues of death, signs the warrant, and gives the high com- 
mission The seemingly fortuitous disaster is only the r»gent 
or the instrument, appointed to execute the supreme decree. 
When the king of Israel was mortally wounded, it seemed to 
be a casual shot. " A certain man drew a bow at a venture."* 
— At a venture, as he thought. But his hand was strength- 
ened by an omnipotent aid, and the shaft levelled by an un- 
erring eye. So that what we term casualty, is really provi- 
dence—accomplishing deliberate designs, but concealing its 
own interposition. — How comforting tins reflection ! admira- 
bly adapted to sooth the throbbing anguish of the mourners, 
and compose their spirits into a quiet submission ! Excellent- 
ly suited; to dissipate the fears of godly survivors, and create 
a calm intrepidity even amidst innumerable perils ! 

How thin is the partition between this w^rld and another ! 
How short the transition from time to eternity ! The parti- 
tion, nothing more than the breath in our nostrils ; and the 
transition may be mude in the twinkling of an eye.— -Poor 
Chremylus, 1 remember, arose from the diversion of a card- 
table, and dropt into the dwellings of darkness. — One night, 
Corinna was all gaiety in her spirits, all finery in her apparel, 
at a magnificent ball. The next night, she lay pale and stiff 
an extended corpse, and ready to be mingled with the mould- 
ering dead. — Young Atticus lived to see his ample and commo- 
dious seat completed ; but not to spend one joyous hour under 
the stately roof. The sashes were hung to admit the day; but 
the masters eyes were closed in endless night. The apart- 
ments were furnished to invite 1 society, or administer repose; 
but their lord rests in the lower parts of the earth, in the so- 
litary, silent chambers of the tomb. The gardens were plan- 
ned, and a thousand elegant decorations designed ; but, alas ! 
their intended possessor is gone down to " the place of 
skulls :" is gone down to the valley of the shadow of death, 

* 1 Kings xxii. 34. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 



-lime 
nd views all 
—even now, ' 
• iich affliction, as over- 
be de- 
in all \.hc pride of their 
- 









MEDITATIONS 

Ah ! in what perils is vain life engag'd ! 

What slight neglects, what trivial faults destroy 

The hardiest frame ! Of indolence, ©f toil 

We die ; of want, of superfluity. 

The all-surrounding heav'n, the vital air, 

Is big with death. 

Since then we are so liable to be dispossessed of this earthly 
tabernacle, let us look upon ourselves only as tenants at will ; 
and hold ourselves in perpetual readiness, to depart at a mo- 
ment's warning. Without such an habitual readiness, we are 
like wretches that sleep on the top of a mast, while a horrid 
gulf yawns, or furious waves rage, below. And where can 
be the peace, what the satisfaction, of such a state ? — Where- 
as, a prepared condition will inspire a cheerfulness of temper, 
not to be dismayed by any alarming accident ; and create a 
firmness of mind, not to be overthrow n by the most threaten- 
ing dangers. When the city is fortified with walls, furnished 
with provision, guarded by able and resolute troops; what 
!> .e inhabitants to fear ? what may they not enjoy l So, 
just so, or ra.lm.-r, by a much surer band, are connected the 
aste of hi'', and the constant thought of death. 

; ):g. And see the 
'.: ed by the hand, sea signet of fate. The 

.-, which graces yonder pillar, informs me, that near it, 
; •>•■'; ted the remains of Sophronia ; the much lamented 
■on I a", who died in child-bed — How often docs this ca- 
rs ! The branch shoots ; but the stem withers. 
: wrings to light ; but she that bare him, breathes 
t. She gives life, but gives it (O pitiable consiclera- 
at the expenee of her own ; and becomes, at once, a 
toother and a corpse. — Or expires in severe 

and is herself a tomb for her infant; whde the meian- 
: -m plaint of a monarch's woe, is the epitaph for them 
" The children are come to the birth, and there is not 
strength to bring forth."* — Less to be lamented, in my opinion, 
this misfortune than the other. Better for the tender stranger 
to be stopped in the porch, than to enter only to converse witii 
affliction. Better to find a grave in the womb, than to be ex- 
posed on a hazardous world, without the guardian of its in- 
fantile years, without the faithful guide of its youth. 

This monument is distinguished by its finer materials, and 
more delicate appendages. It seems to have taken its model 



AMONG THE TOMES. 35 

from an affluent hand ; directed by a generous heart ; which 
thought it could never do .enough for the deceased. — It seems, 
also, to exhibit an emblematical picture of Sophrcnia's person 
and accomplishments. Is her beauty, or what is more than 
beauty, her white-robed innocence, represented by the snowy 
colour ? The surface, smoothly polished, like her amiable 
temper, and engaging manners. The whole elegantly adorn- 
ed, in a well-judged medium, between extravagant pomp, 
and sordid negligence; like her uudissembled goodness, re- 
mote from the least ostentation, yet in all points exemplary. — 
But ah ! how vain were all these endearing charms ! how 
vain, the lustre of thy sprightly eve ! how vain, the bloom of 
thy bridal youth ! how vain the honours of thy superior birth ! 
how unable to secure the lovely possessor from the savage 
violence of death ! — How ineffectual, the universal esteem of 
thy acquaintance! the fondness of thy transported husband ; 
or even the spotless integrity of thy character; to prolong thy 
span, or procure thee a short reprieve ! — The concurrence of 
all these circumstances, reminds me of those beautiful and 
tender lines : 



How lov'd, how valu'd once, avails thee not; 
To whom related, or by whom begot. 
A heap of dust alone remains of thee ; 
'Tis all thou art!— and all the proud shall be.* 

Pope's Micel. 



* These verses r.rc inscribed on a small, but elegant monument, lately ejected 
ni the great church at Northampton ; winch, ia the hiero.clrnhicai decorations, 
corresponds w ith the descriptions introduced above : In this circumstance par- 
ticularly, that it is dedicated to the memory of an amiable woman, Mrs. Anne 
Stonehouse, the excellent wife of my worthy friend Dr. Stone-house ; who has 
seen all the powers of that healing art, to which 1, and so many others, have 
lieen greatly indebted, failing in their attempts to preserve a lite dearer to him 
than his owh. 

Nee prosunt domino, quee prosunt omnibus artes. 

No longer his all-healing art avails ; 
But ev'ry remedy its master fails. 

In the midst of this tender distress, he had sought some kind of consolation, even 

J'rom the sepulchral marble ; hy n aching it to speak, at one-, his e*u-?,n for her 
memory: and his veneration for ihat rerknon, *'*tieh she so' eminently adorned. 
Nor could thk be move significant];,- clone, than by summing op l:w '.■hars.cter. ir> 
hat concise, but comprehensive sentence, A siutere Chnrtiaii. Concise cj.o.ic*- 



DITATIO; 

Yet, though unable to divert the stroke, Chris; 
vereign to pluck out the sting- of death. Is not this the silent 
language of those lamps which burn, and of that heart which 
flames ; of those palms which flourish, and of that crown 
which glitters, in the well-imitated and gilded marble? Do 
they not, to the discerning eye, describe the vigilance of her 



to be the motto for a monrj comprehensive, as the most en- 

ortii. For, whatsoever things 
are purr ; whatsoever things arc lovely; whatsoever things are of g 

not- all induded in that grand and nohl< I sincere 



tion. '; : while, ii> melancholy contem- 

■ 

, i t,i which attended, and die superiority of birth which 
distinguished^ the dec-eased \vi*e ; it e\pre>-.-i -. beyond aH the pomp of words, the 
yearning affection; and heart-ielt affliction, of the surviving husband.— Amidst 
the group of monumental marbles, which are lavish of their pauegyricj this, T 
tiiLnk. resembl; ; the incomparable address of the painter, who, having placed, 
round a beautiful expiring virgin, her friends in all thi fj repre- 

sented the unequalled anguish of the father, with far greater liveliness 'am! 
i, or rather with inexpressible emphasis, by drawing a veil over bis 

If {he last Hpes j-r. a wide departure from the beaten track of our i 



A heap of dust alone it mains of thee! 

v JTis all thou art!— and all the proud shall be! 



aot without a precedent, and on^ of the most consummate kind, fcince 

they breathe the very spirit of that sacred elegy, in which all the heart of the 

neru and the friend seems to be dissolved] "How are the mighty fallen, and the 

! !" 2 Sam. i. 27.— Tlrey remind the reader of that aw. 

ful lesson, which was originally ^dictated by the Supreme Wisdom ; 

t, and unto dust thou' shr.lt return.'.' Gen. iii. 19.— They inculcate, 
I the foite of the mos; convincing evidence, that solemn hd#n< 



AMOISG THE TOMBS. 

faith ; the -fervency of her devotion ; her victory over the 
world ; and the celestial diadem, which the Lord, the righte- 
ous Judge, shall give her at that day ?* 

How happy the husband, in such a sharer of his bed, and 
partner of his fortunes ! Their inclinations were nicely -turned 
unisons, and all their conversation was harmony. How silken 
the yoke to such a pair, and what blessings were twisted with 
such bands ! Every joy was heightened, and every care alle- 
viated. Nothing seemed wanting to consummate their bliss, 
but a hopeful progeny rising around them — that they might 
see themselves multiplied in their little ones ; see their ming- 
led graces^ transfused into their offspring ; and feel the glow 
of their affection augmented, by being- reflected from their 
children. — " Grant us this gift," said their united prayers, 
*' and our satisfactions are crowned: we request no more" 

Alas ! how blind are mortals to future events ! How unable 
to discern what is really good 1 f " Give me children," s; id 
Rachel, " or else I die."? An ardour of impatience, altoge- 
ther unbecoming-, and as mistaken as it was unbecoming. She 
dies, not by the disappointment, but by the accomplishment, 



delivered by the prophet ; £i Cease ye from man, 'whose breath is in his nostrils : 
tor -wherein is he to be accounted of?*' Isa. ii. i2. 

That no reader, however inattentive, might mistake the sense and design of this 
part of the fourth line, 

'Tis all thou art ! 

it is guarded above and beneath.— Above, is an expanded book, that seems to be 
. waved, with an air of triumph, over the emblem of death : which Ave cannot but 
suppose to be the volume of inspiration, as it exhibits a. sort of 'abridgment of its 
whole contents, in those animated words ; " Be ye net slothful, but followers of 
them, who through faith and patience inherit the promises.'* Heb. vi. 12.— Be- 
neat/i, that every part might be pregnant Avith instruction, are those striking re- 
flections ; worthy the coitsideration of the highest proficient in knowledge and 
piety, yet obvious to the understanding of tike most lustaught reader; '"' Life, how 
short ! Eternity, how long !'"— May my soul learn the forcible purport of this short 
lesson, in her contracted span of time ! and all eternity will not be too long to 
rejoice in having learned it, 

* 2 Tim. iv. 8. 

t "Seseia mens hominum fati, sortisque furturse ! 
Turno tempus erit, magno euni optaAerit emptmn. 
Intactum Pallanta ; et cum spoiia ista dieinque 
Qderit. 

4 Gen. xxx. ii 

Vol. L © 



33 MEDITATIONS 

of her desire. — If children are, to parents, like a flowery 
chaplet, whose beauties blossom with ornament, and whose 
odours breathe delight ; death, or some fell misfortune, may 
find means to entwine themselves with the lovely wreath. 
"Whenever our souls are poured out, with passionate importu- 
nity, after any inferior acquisition ; it may be truly said, in the 
words of our divine Master, '* Ye know not what ye ask." — 
Does Providence withhold the thing- that we long for ? it de- 
nies in mercy ; and only withholds the occasion of our misery 
perhaps '■'. instrument of our ruin. With a sickly appetite, 
we often loathe what is wholesome, and hanker after our bane. 
"Where imagination dreams of unmingled sweets, there ex- 
perience frequently finds the bitterness of woe. 

Therefore, may we covet immoderately, neither this nor 
that form of earthly felicity ; but refer the whole of our con- 
dition, to the choice of unerring Wisdom May we learn to 
renounce our own will; and be ready to make a sacrifice of 
our warmest wishes, whenever they run counter to the good 
pleasure of God. For, indeed, as to obey his laws, is to be 
perfectly free ; so, to resign ourselves to his disposal, is to esta- 
blish, our own happiness, and to be secure from fear of evil. 

Here a small and plain stone is placed upon the ground; 
purchased, one would imagine, from the little fund, and 
formed by the hand of frugality itself. Nothing costly : not 
one decoration added : only a very short inscription ; and 
that so effaced, as U> be scarcely intelligible. — Was the de- 
pository unfaithful to its trust! or were the letters worn, by 
the frequent resort of the surviving family ; to mourn over 
the grave, and revive the remembrance of a most valuable 
and beloved relative? — For I perceive, upon a closer inspec- 
tion, that it covers the remains of a father ; a religious father : 
snatched from his growing offspring, before they were settled 
in the world, or so much as their principles fixed by a thorough 
education. 

This, sure, is the most complicated distress, that has hither- 
to come under our consideration. The solemnities of such a 
dying chamber are some of the most melting and melancholy 
scenes imaginable. — There lies the affectionate husband; the 
indulgent parent; the faithful friend; and the generous mas- 
ter. He lies in the last extremities, and on the very point of 
dissolution. Art has done its all. The rag-lng disease mocks 
the power of medicine. It hastens, with resistless impetuo- 
sity, to execute its dreadful errand ; to rend asunder the sil- 
ver cord of life, and the more delicate tie of social attach- 
ment, and conjugal affection. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 39 

A servant or two, from a revering- distance, cast many a 
wishful took, and condole their honoured master in the lan- 
guage of sighs. The condescending- mildness of his com- 
mands, was wont to produce an alacrity of obedience, and 
render their service a pleasure. Now the remembrance of 
both imbittevs their grief, and makes it trickle plentifully 
down their honest cheeks —His friends, who have so often 
shared his joys, and gladdened his mind with their enlivening 
converse, now are miserable comforters. A sympathising and 
mournful pity is all the relief they are able to contribute ; un- 
less it be augmented by their silent prayers for the divine 
succour, and a ■word of consolation suggested from the Scrip- 
tures.*—! "hose poor innocents, the children, croud around 
t.ae bed ; drowned in tears, and almost frantic with grief, they 
sob out their little souls, and passionately cry ; " Will he leave 
us ? leave us in a helpless condition ! leave us to an injurious 
world !" 

These separate streams are all united in the distressed 
spouse, and overwhelm her breast with an impetuous tide of 
sorrows. In her the lover weeps ; the wife mourns ; and ail 
the mother yearns. To her, the loss is beyond measure ag- 
gravated, by months and years of delightful society, and ex- 
alted friendship. Where, alas! can she meet with such un- 
suspected fidelity, or repose such unreserved confidence ? 
Where find so discreet a counsellor ; so improving an exam- 
ple ; and a guardian so sedulously attentive to the interests 
of herself, and her children ? — See ! how she hangs over the 
languishing bed ; most tenderly solicitous to prolong a life, 
important and desirable far beyond her own, or, if that be 
impracticable, no less tenderly officious to soothe the last 
agonies of her dearer self. — Her hands, trembling under dire- 
ful apprehensions, wipe the cold dews from the livid cheeks ; 
and sometimes stay the sinking head on her gentle arms, 
sometimes rest it on her compassionate bosom. — See ! how 
she gazes, with a speechless ardour, on the pale countenance, 
and meagre features.- — Speechless her tongue, but she looks 
unutterable things. While all her soft passions throb with 



* Texts of scripture, proper for such an occasion ; containing promises — 
of support under affliction, Lam. iii. .32. Heb. xii. 6. 2 Cor. iv. 17.— of 
pardon, Isa. i. 18. Isa. liii. 5. Acts x. 43. 1 John ii. 1, 2.— of justification, 
Rom. v. 9. Rom. viii. 33, 34. 2 Cor. v. 21.— of victory over death, Psalm 
sxiii. 4. Psalm Ixviii. 26. l Cor. xv. 56, 57.— of a happv resurrection, Jofin 
vi, 40. 2 Cor. v. 1. Rev. vii. 16 17. 



4© MEDITATIONS 

unavailing fondness, and her very soul bleeds with exquisite 
anguish; 

The sufferer, all patient and adoring, submits to the divine 
'.rill ; and, by submission, becomes superior to his affliction. 
He is sensibly touched with the disconsolate state of his at- 
tendants ; and pierced with an anxious concern, for his wife 
and his children. His wife, who will soon be a destitute 
widow ; his children, who will soon be helpless orphans. 
" Yet, though cast down, not in despair." He is greatly re- 
freshed, by his trust in the everlasting covenant, and his hope 
of approaching glory. Religion gives a dignity to distress. 
At each interval of ease, lie comforts his very comforters ; 
and suffers with all the majesty of woe. 

The soul, just going to abandon the tottering clay, collects 
all her force, and exerts her last efforts. The good man raises 
hitBself on his -pillow; extends a kind hand to his servants, 
which is bathed in tears ; takes an affecting farewell of his 
friends ; clasps his wife in a feeble embrace; kisses the dear 
pledges of their mutual love ; and then pours all that remains 
of life and strength, in the following words : — " I die, my 
" dear children : but God, the everlasting God, will be with 
fS you — Though you lose an earthly parent : you have a Fa- 
" ther in heaven, who lives for eve) more. — Nothing, nothing 
" but an unbelieving heart, and irreligious life, can ever se- 
< f parate you from the regards of his providence — from the 
** endearments of his love." 

He could proceed no farther. His heart was full ; but ut- 
terance failed After a short pause, prompted by affectionate 
zeal, with difficulty, great difficulty, he added: — "You, the 
< f dear partner of my soul, you are now the only protector of 
" our orphans — 1 leave you under a weight of cares. — But 
" God, who defendeth the cause of the widow, — God, whose 
li promises is faithfulness and truth, — God hath said, ' I will 
<( never leave thee, nor forsake thee.'* — This revives my 
" drooping spirits, — let this support the wife of my bosom — 
" And now, O Father of compassions, into thy hands I com- 
k< mend my spirit.— Encouraged by thy promised goodness, I 
*« leave my fatherless — " 

Here he fainted ; fell back upon the bed ; and lay, for some 
. minutes, bereft of his senses. As a taper, upon the very point 
of extinction, is sometimes suddenly rekindled, and leaps into 
a quivering flame ; so life, before it totally expired, gave a. 

• Ikb. xiii. 5. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 41 

parting- struggle, and once more looked abroad from the open- 
ing eyt^lids.— He would faio have spoke ; fain have uttered 
the sentence he began. More than once lie essayed ; but the 
organs of speech were become like a broken vessel, and no- 
thing but the obstructing phlegm rattled in his throat. His 
aspect, however, spoke affection inexpressible. With all the 
father, all the husband still living in his looks, he takes one 
more view of those dear children, whom he had often beheld 
with a parental triumph. He turns his dying eyes on thai- 
beloved woman, whom he never beheld but with a g^? cf 
delight. Fixed in this posture, amidst smiies of love, and un- 
der a gleam of heaven, they shine out their last. 

Upon this, the silent sorrow bursts into loud laments. They 
weep, and refuse to be comforted. Till some length of time 
had given vent to the excess of passion ; and the consolations 
of religion had staunched their bleeding woes. Then the af- 
flicted family search for the sentence, which fell unfinished 
from those loved, those venerable, and pious lips. They find 
it recorded by the prophet Jeremiah, containing the direction 
©f infinite Wisdom, and the promise of unbounded Coodness ; 
*' Leave thy fatherless children ; I will preserve them alive ; 
and let thy widows trust in me "* — This, now, is the comfort 
of their life, and the joy of their heart. They treasure it up 
in their memories. It is the best of legacies, and an inex- 
haustible fond : A fund which will supply all their wants, by 
entailing theblessirgof Heaven on all their honest labours. — 
They are rich, they are happy, in this sacred pledge of the 
divine favour. They fear no evil ; they want no good ; be- 
cause God is their portion, and their g .ardian God. 

No sooner turned from one memento of my own, and me- 
morial of another's decease, bat a second, a third, a long suc- 
cession of these melancholy monitors croud upon my sight f— 
That which has fixed my observation, is one of a more grave 
and stable aspect than the former. I suppose it preserves the 
relics of a more aged person. One would conjecture, that he 
made somewhat of a figure in his station among the living, as 
his monument does among the funeral marbles. Let me 
draw near, and enquire of the stone ; " Who, or what, is be- 
"neath its surface?" — I am informed, he was once the owner 
of a considerable estate ; which was much improved, by his 
own application and management : that he left the world in 
fhe busy period of life, advanced a little beyond the meridian. 

;* Jerem. xlix. 11. 

^ m . ■ m , ■ i, ffarima mortis jmaj-c— Ygg< 
»2 



42 MEDITATIONS 

Probably, i*eplied my musing mind, one of those inci. A 
gable druclges, who rise early; late take rest; and eat the 
bread of carefulness ; not to secure the loving-kindness of the 
Lord : not to make provision for any reasonable necessity; but 
only to amass together ten thousand times mure than they can 
possibly use. — Did he not lay schemes for enlarging his for- 
tune, and aggrandizing his family ? Did he not purpose to join 
field to field, and add house to house ; till his possessions were 
almost as vast as his desires ? That, then, he would sit down, 
Zud enjoy what he had acquired ;* breathe a while from his 
toilsome pursuit of thingg temporal, and, perhaps, think a lit- 
tle of things eternal. 

But see the folly of worldly wisdom ! How silly, how child- 
ish, is the sagacity of (what is called) manly and masterly 
prudence ; when it contrives more solicitously for time, than 
it provides for eternity ! How strangely infatuated are those 
subtile heads, which we ary themselves in concerting measures 
for phantoms of a day, and scarce bestow a thought on ever- 
lasting realities'. — When every wheel moves on smoothly; 
when all the well-disposed designs are ripening apace for exe- 
cution ; and the long-expected crisis of enjoyment seems to 
approach; behold! God from on high laughs at the Babel- 
builder. Death touches the bubble, and it breaks ; it drops 
into nothing. The cobweb, most finely spun indeed, but more 
easily dislodged, is swept away in an instant; and all the 
abortive projects are buried, in the same grave with their pro- 
jector. So true is that verdict, which the Wisdom from above 
passes on these successful unfortunates : " They walk in a vain, 
shadow, and disquiet themselves in vain."f 

Speak, ye that attended such a one in his last minutes : ye 
that heard his expiring sentiments ; did he not cry out, in the 
language of disappointed sensuality ? - " O Death • how ter- 
*? rible is thy approach, to a man immersed in secular rares, 
•' and void of all concern for the never ending hereafter! 
* f Where, alas ? is the profit, where the comfort, of entering 
" deep into the knowledge, and of being dexterous in the dis- 
*' patch of earthly aHairs ; since I have, all the while neglcct- 
" ed the «one thing needful !' — Destructive mistake ! I have 
*' been attentive to every inferior interest ; I have laid m) self 
•' out on the trifles of a moment ; but have disregarded heS- 



- Hac mente laborer* 



Jks" i nv, si nrs at in otia tuta rcmlant. 
•4J»t, cw» sibi sint coresta tibanft . ■* ./ %£■ 

F«aba *pnis, $s 



AMONG THR TOMBS, 43 

"Ven, have forgot eternal ages!— O that my days" — Here he 
was going on to breathe some fruitless wishes, o. to form I 
know not what ineffectual resolutions. But a sudden convul- 
sion shook his nerves ? disabled his tongue ; and, in less than 
an hour, dissolved his frame. 

May the children of this world be warned by the dying 
words of an unhappy brother, and gather advantage from his 
misfortune. — Why should they pant with such impatient ar- 
dour, after white and yellow earth ; as if the universe d.d not 
afford, sufficient for every one to take a little I Why should 
they lade themselves with thick clay, when they are to *' ran 
for an incorruptible crown, and press towards the prize of 
their high calling ?" Why should they. overload the vessel, 
in which their everlasting all is embarked ; or 631 their arms 
with superfluities, wherJ tlicr wp to swim for their lives :— 
Yet, so preposterous is the conduct of those person^ who are 
all industry, to heap up an abundance of the wealth which 
perisheth ; but are scarce so much as faintly desirous, of be- 
ing rich towards God. 

O ! tiuit we may walk from henceforth through all these 
glittering toys, at least with a wfee indifference, if not with a 
superior disdain ! Having enough for tlie conveniences of life, 
let us only accommodate ourselves with things below, and lay 
up our treasures in the regions above. — Whereas, if we in- 
dulge an anxious concern, or lavish an inordinate care, on any 
transitory possessions ; we shall rivet them to our affections 
with so firm an union, that the utmost seventy of pain must 
attend the separating stroke. By such an eager attachment, 
to w v »at will certainly be ravished from us ; we shall only in- 
sure to ourselves accumulated anguish, against the agonizing 
hour We shall plant, aforehand, our dying pillow with 
thorns.* 

Some, I perceived, arrived at threescore years and ten, be= 
fore they made their exit ; nay, some few resigned not their 
breath, till they had numbered fourscore revolving harvests. 
These, I would" hope, ' ; remembered their Creator in the days 
of their youth ;" before their strength became labour and sor- 
row ; — before that low ebb of languishing nature, when "the 
keepers of the house tremble, and those that look out of the 

* Lean not en earth ; Hwill pierce thee t© the heart; 
A broken reef! at best, but oft a spear: 
3* i$s sbarp pejus Fe»ee j»ke4% aad Hope expires. 

JOghfrThoughtt, $i X& 



44 MEDITATIONS 

windows are darkened ;"* when even the lighting down 
grasshopper is a burden on ihe bending shoulders, and desire 
itself fails in the listless, lethargic soul ; — before those heavy 
hours come, and those tiresome moments draw nigh, in which 
there is too much reason to say, " We have no pleasure in 
them ; no improvement from them " 

If their lamps were unfurnished with oil ; how unfit must 
they be, in such decripit circumstances, to go to the market, 
and" buy !j For, besides a variety of disorders arising from the 
enfeebled constitution, their corruptions must be surprisingly 
strengthened by such a long course of irrehgion Evil habits 
must have struck the deepest root; must have twisted them- 
selves with every fib: e of the heart; and be as thoroughly in- 
grained in the disposition, as the soot in the Ethiopian's com- 
plexion, or the spots in the L.cop^rd's skin. If such a one, 
under such d is advantage s, surmounts all the difficulties which 
lie r.i his way to glo-y, it must be a great and mighty salva- 
tion indeed. If such a one escapes destruction, and is saved 
at the last; it must, without all peradventure, be — so as by 
fire % 

Tips is the season which stands in need of comfort, and is 
very improper to enter upon the conflict. The husbandman 
should now be putting in his sickle, or eating the fruit of his 
labours i not beginning to break up the gr.our.cl, or scatter the 
seed. — Nothing, it is true, is impossible with God: He said, 
" Let there be light, and there was light :" Instantaneous 
fight, diffused, as quick as thought, through all the dismal 
dominion of primaeval darkness. At his command a leprosy 
of the longest continuance, and of the utmost inveteracy, .de- 
parts in a moment. He can, in the greatness of his strength, 
quicken the wretch, who has lain dead in trespasses and sins, 
not four days only, but fourscore years. — Yet trust not, O trust 
not, a point of such, inexpressible importance, to so dreadful 
an uncertainty God may suspend his power; may withdraw 
his help ; may swear in his wrath, that such abusers of his 
long-suffering shall " never enter into his rest." 

* Eccles. xii. 3. 5. I need not remind my reader, that, by the former of 
thise figurative expressions, is signified the enervated state of the tends 
and amis ; by the latter, the dimness of the eyes, or the total loss of sight : 
That, taken in connection with other parts of the chapter, they exhibit, iu 
a leries of lx>ld and lively metaphors, a description of the various inilrnutiu 
jttteadant on old age. 

t Mat*, xxv. ?. 1 Cor. 85. *ff. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 45 

Ye, therefore, that are vigorous in health, and blooming in 
years, improve the precious opportunity. Improve your gold- 
en hours, to the noblest of all purposes ; such as may render 
you meet for the inheritance of saints in light; and ascertain 
your title to a state of immortal youth, to a crown of eternal 
glory. — Stand not, all the prime of your day, idle; triflemo 
longer with the offer of this immense felicity ; but make 
haste, and delay not the time, to keep God's commandments.* 
White you are loitering in a gay insensibility, death may be 
bending his bow, and marking you out for speedy victims. 
Not long ago, I happened to spy a thoughtless jay. The poor 
bird was idly busied in dressing his pretty plumes, of hopping 1 
carelessly from spray to spray. A sportsman, coming by, ob- 
serves the feathered rover. Immediately he lifts the tube, 
and levels his blow. Swifter than whirlwind files the leaden 
death ; and, in a moment, lays the silly creature breathless 
on the ground. — Such, such may be the fate of the man, who 
has a fa«r occasion of obtaining grace to-day, and wantonly 
postpones the improvement of it till to-mo: row. He may be 
cut off in the midst of his folly ; and ruined for ever, wuile 
he is dreaming of being wise hereafter, 

Some, no doubt, came to this their last retreat, full of piety, 
and full of days : " as a shock of corn, ripe with a£e, and la- 
den with plenty, cometh in, in his season. "f — These were 
children of light, and wise in their ^feneration ; wise with that 
exalted wisdom which cometh from above, and with that en- 
during wisdom which la«ts to eternity. — Rich also they were, 
more honourable and permanently rich than all the votaries of 
Mammon. The wealth of the one has made itself wings, and 



* May I be permitted to recommend, as a treasure of fine sentiments, and 
a treatise particularly apposite to my subject, Dr. Lucas's Inquiry after 
Happiness? That part especially, which displays the method, and enume- 
rates the advantages, of improving life, or living much in a little time, chap, 
iii. p. 158. of the 6th edit.— An author, in whom the gentleman, the scholar, 
and the Christian, are most lr.p:>ily united. A performance, which, in point 
of solid argument, unaffected piety, and a vein, of thought amazingly fer- 
tile, has, perhaps, no superior.— Nor can I wish my reader a more refined 
pleasure, or a more substantial happiness, than that of having the senti- 
ments of this entertaining and pathetic wiiter, wove into the very te\ture of 
Lis heart. Unless I might be allowed to wish, that th - writ, r himself had in- 
ter spersed the glorious peculiarities of the gospel, (on winch our happifcess 
absolutely depends^ a little more liberally through aU his worfeb 



4G MEDITATIONS 

is irrecoverably gone ; while the wretched acquirers are trans- 
mitted to that place of penury and pain, where not so much as 
one drop of water is allowed to cool their scorched tongues. 
The stores of the other still abide with them ; will never de- 
part from them ; but make them glad, for ever and ever, 
in the city of their God. Their treasures were such, as no 
created power could take away ; such as none but infinite be- 
neficence can bestow ; and (comfortable to consider? J such 
as I, and every indigent longing sinner, may obtain ; treasures 
of heavenly knowledge, and saving faith : treasures of aton- 
ing blood, and imputed righteousness. 

Here * lie their bodies in "peaceable habitations, and quiet 
resting places.'' Here they have thrown off every burden, 



* Some, I know, are offend* ■'. m our burying corpses whhin the ehurch ; 
an' 1 exclaim against it, as a wry great imnroprietj and indecency. But 
this, I imagine, proceeds from an excessive and mistaken delicacy. If 
propex care be taken to secure from injury the foundations of the build- 
uu-; and to prevent the exhalation of any noxious effluvia, from the pu- 
trefying tiesG ; I cannot discover any inconveniencies attending tlus prae- 
tice'. 

Th« notion, that noisome carcasses fas they are called) are very unbe- 
coming a place consecrated to reti&ious purposes, seems to bit derived 
from the ai.tiini:ittd Jewish canon; when by it v. as declared, that a dead 
body imparted defilement to the person who touched it, and polluti d Uie 
spot where it was lixleed. On which account, t!>e St v s wen scrupulously 
careful to have their •• pulchres built at a distance rom their hou« 
madeita point of conscunce not to suffer burial places to subsist in the 
*tity. But as Uii> was a rit< purely ceremonial ; it seems to be entirely su- 
perseded by the gospel dispensation. 

I cannot forlnar thinking, that under the Christian ceconomy, there is 
a pr o prie t y and usefulness in the custom.— Usefulness, because it'must ren- 
der our solemn ass mblies more venerable and a\> fid. For when we w alk 
over the dust o!' our fri. nds, or kneel upon the asht s of our relations ; this 
awakening circumstance most strike a live!) bnpr. >si<;ii of our o> 
Vality. And what consideration can be more effectual, to make us serious 
and attentive in hearing, earnest and importunate in praj ing ? 

As for the fitness of the usage, it stems perfectly suitable to the design 
of those sucred edifices. They are vi ; pari for IhkI ; not only to receive 
bis worshippers, but to present' the furniture filr holy ministrations, and 
what is in, a peculiar manner, appropriated to t! sty. Are 

tiot the bodies of the sainrv the Almighty's property? Were they not 
once the objects of his tender love ? An tnej tid Mi!! the subj; cts of his 
special care? Has he not given commandment emit, rning the 
his i lect; and charged the ocean, and hijointd I i' them 

until that day ? wg t n rocks bright with gem*, or mountains rich iv ifa 



AMONG THE TOMBS, 47 

and are escaped from every snare. The head aches no more; 
the eye forgets to weep ; the flesh is no longer racked with 
acute, nor wasted with lingering distempers Here they re- 
ceive a final release from pain, and an everlasting discharge 
from sorrow. Here danger never threatens them with her 
terrifying alarms ; but tranquillity softens their couch, and 
safety guards their repose. — Rest then, ye precious relics, 
within this hospitable gloom. Rest in gentle slumbers, till the 
last tiumpet shall give the welcome signal, and sound aloud 
through all your silent mansions " Arise; shine; for your light 
is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen upon you."* 

To these, how calm was the evening of life ! In what a 
smiling serenity did their sun go down ! When their flesh and 
their heart failed, how reviving* was the remembrance of an 
ali-sufnt»ieut Redeemer, once dying for their sins, now risen 
again for their justification ! How cheering the well-grounded 
hope of pardon for their transg-essions, and peace with God, 
through Jesus Christ our Lord! How did this assuage the 
agonies, and sweeten the bitterness of death' Where now is 
wealth, with all her golden mountains? Where is honour, with 
her proud trophies of renown I Where are all the vain pomps 



mines, ere abandoned to the devouring flames ; wHl not these be rescued 
fi-or.i the fiery rhiu? will not tlu-se be translated into Jehovah's ki?>gdom, 
and, conjointly with the >.uul, int.de •• hi^ V-v ■ Is ;" made " 'us peculiar 
treasure * made to shirie as die brightness of the firmament, and as the 
stars for ever and ever ? 

Is not Christ the Lord of our bodies : Are they not bought with a price? 
bou.irbt, not with corruptible things. sil'vr and gold. but wit! his dhinely pre- 
fioiH !>](iod. And if tlu- blessed Jesus purchased the redemption of our bodies, 
at so infinitely- dear a rate ; can it ever enter into our hearts to "oneeiVe, 
that he shem! dislike .o have them reposed under his uwu ii.ibiau ; ;*.-i?— ■ 
Once more ; Are not the bodies of the faithful, temples of the holy Ghost ? 
and is there not, upon this supposition, an apparent propriety, rather 
least indecorum - , i:i remitting these temples of iiesh to "the tem- 
ples made with hands? They are vessels of honour; instruments of ri r'tte- 
Ousness ; and. even when broken by death, like the fragments of a go;den 
bowl, are valuable ; are wo. thy to be laid up in the safest, most honour- 
able repositories. 

Upon the whole, since the Lord Jesus has purchased them at the expense 
of his bicod. and the blessed Spirit has honoured them with his indwelling: 
presence ; since they are right dear inth sight of the adorable Trinity, cud 
undoubted heirs of a glorious immortality; whv should it be thought a 
thing improp-r, to admit them to a transient rest in their heavenly Father's 
house ? why may they not lie down and sleep in the outer courts, since 
they are soon to be introduced into the inmost mansions of everlas&Hg 
noneuraad joy? 

* Isa. k. l. 



4S MEDITATIONS 

of a deluded world ? Can they inspire such comfort, crh they 
administer any support, in this last extremity ? Can they com- 
pose the affrighted thoughts ; or buoy up the departing soul, 
amidst all the pangs of dissolution ! — The followers of the 
Lamb seem pleated and triumphant, even at their last gasp. 
" God's everlasting arms are underneath" * their fainting 
heads. His spirit whispers peace and consolation to their 
consciences. In t. e strength of these heavenly succours, 
they quit the Geld., not captives, but conquerors ; with *' hopes 
full of immortality." 

And now they are gone. — The struggles of reluctant na- 
ture are over The body sleeps in death : the soul launches 
into the invisible state. But who can imagine the delightful 
surprise, when the} find themselves surrounded by guardian 
angels, instead. of weeping friends? How securely do they 
%v .; heii way, and pass through unknown worlds, under 
the conduct of tfeose celestial guides ! — The vale of tears is 
quite lost Farewell, for ever, the realms of woe, and range 
of malignant beings'! They arrive on the. frontiers of inex- 
pressible felicity. They " are come to the city of the living 
God :" while a voice, sweeter than music in her softest 
Strains, sweet as the harmony of hymning seraphim, congra- 
tulates their arrival, and bespeaks their admission : «* Lift up 
your heads, • O ye gates ; and be ye lift up, ye everlasting 
doors ; that the heirs of glory ma\ enter in." 

Here, then, let us leave the spirits and souls of the righte- 
ous, escaped from an entangling wilderness, and received 
into a paradise of delights; escaped from the territories of 
disquietude, and settled in regions of unmolested security ! 
Here thev sit down with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, in the 
kingdom of their father. Here they mingle with an innume- 
rable company of angels, and rejoice around the throne of 
the Lamb ; rejoice in the fruition of present felicity, and in 
the assured expectation of an inconceivable addition to their 
bliss ; when God shall call the heavens from above, and the 
earth that he may judge his people.-f- 



* Deut. xxxliL 27. 

+ Seneca's reflection upon the state of the holv souls, delivered from the burden 
of the fle*b, rue sparkling and fine ; yet very indistinct anrl empty, compared *ith 
the particulars mentioned above.and with tuany others that might be collet led from 
scripture. In hoc tarn prece-Uoso, et in omae? ttuipewatei txposto na>i£ajutibu3 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 45 

Fools accounted their life madness, and their end to be 
without honour ; but they are numbered among- the children 
of God, and their lot, their distinguished and eternal lot is 
among- the saints.* However, therefore, an undiscerning* 
world may despise, and a profane world vilify, th< truly reli- 
gious ; be this the supreme, the invariable desire of. my heart! 
*' Let me live the life, and die the death, of the righteous. 
" Oh 1 let my latter end, and future state be like theirs !" 

What figure is that which strikes my e} r e from an eminent 
part of the wall I It is not only placed in a more elevated situ- 
ation than the rest, but carries a more splendid and sumptu- 
ous air than ordinary. Swords and spears ; murdering engines, 
and instruments of slaughter ; adorn the stone with a formi- 
dable magnificence. — It proves to be the monument of a no» 
ble warrior. 

Is such respect, thought I, paid to the memory of this brave 
soldier for sacrificing his life to the public good ?- — Then, what 
honoui'S, what immortal honours, are due to the great Captain 
of our salvation ? who, though Lord of the angelic legions, 
and supreme commander of all the heavenly hosts, willingly 
offered himseif a bleeding propitiation for sinners ! 

The one died being a mortal ; and only yielded up a life, 
which was long before forfeited to divine justice ; which must 
soon have been surrendered as a debt to nature, if it had not 
fallen as a prey to war — But Christ took flesh, and gave up 
the ghost, though he was the great I AM; the fountain of 
existence ; who calls happiness and immortality all his own. 
He, who thought it no robbery to be equal with God ; he 
whose outgoings were from everlasting ; even he, was made 
in the likeness of man, and cut off out of the land of the 
living. Wonder, O heavens ! Be astonished, O earth ! HE 
died the death, of whom it is witnessed, that he is "the true? 
God, and eternal Life."f 

The one exposed himself to peril, in the service of his so- 
vereign and his country ; which, though it was glorious to do, 
yet would have been ignominious, in such circumstances, to 
have declined — But Christ took the field, though he was the 

maii, nullus poi-tus, nisi mortis est. Ne itaque invideris frati-i too ; quies- 
eit. Tandem liber, tandem tutus, tandem a;temus est. Fruitur nunc a- 
perto et libero ccelo ; ex humiii et depresso, in eiun emicuit locum, qui sol- 
mas vinculis animas beato recipit sinu ; et nun comnia rerum natura bona 
cam summa volaptate percipit. 

Sen. ad PolyL 

* Wistfoi* v. 4. $» 1 1 J°k» t* 2ft, 



50 MEDITATIONS 

blessed and only Potentate ; the King- of king's, and Lord of 
lords. Christ took the field, though lie was sure to drop in 
the engagement; and put on the harness, though he knew be- 
forehand that it must reek with his blcod. That Prince of 
heaven resigned his royal person, not barely to the hazard, 
but to the inevitable stroke ; to death, certain in its approach, 
and armed with all its horrors. — And for whom ? Not for those 
who were in any degree deserving ; but for his own disobe- 
dient creatures ; for the pardon of condemned malefactors ; 
for a band of rebels, a race of traitors, the most obnoxious 
and inexcusable of all criminals : whom he might have left to 
perish in their iniquities, without the least impeachment of 
his goodness, and to the display of his avenging justice. 

The one, 'tis probable, died expeditiously ; was suddenly 
wounded, and soon slain.. A bullet lodged in his heart ; a 
Bword, sheathed in his breast ; or a battle-axe, cleaving the 
brain ; might put a speedy end to his misery ; dispatch him 
?' as in a moment. — Whereas the divine Redeemer expired 
in tedious and protracted torments. His pangs were as lin- 
gering, as they were exquisite. Even iiL.the prelude to his 
last suffering, what a load of sorrows overwhelmed his sacred 
humanity ! till the intolerable pressure wrung blood, instead 
of sweat from every pore ; till the crimson flood bathed his 
body, stained all his raiment, and tinged the very stones. — 
But when the last scene of the tragedy commenced, when the 
executioner's hammer had nailed him to the cross ; O ! how 
many dismal hours did that illustrious sufferer hang ; a spec- 
tacle of woe, to God, to Angels, and to men ! His temples 
mangled with the thorny crown ! his hands and feet cleft with 
the rugged irons ! his whole body covered with wounds and 
bruises ! and his soul, his very soul, pierced with pangs of 
-unutterable distress : So long he hung, that nature, through 
all her dominions, was thrown into sympathizing commotions. 
The earth could no longer sustain such barbarous indignities, 
without trembling; nor the sun behold them without horror. 
JJay, so long did he hang in this extremity of torture, that 
the alarm reached even the remote regions of the dead. — 
INever, O my soul, never forget the amazing truth ! The 
Lamb of God was seized; was bound; was slaughtered with 
the utmost inhumanity and endured death, in all its bitter- 
ness, for thee ! His* murderers, studiously cruel, so guided 
the fatal cup ; that he tasted every drop of its gall, before he 
drank it off to the very dregs. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 51 

Once again : the warrior died like a hero, and fell gallantly 
in the field of battle.— But died not Christ as a fool dieth ? * 
Not on the bed of honour, with scars of glory in his breast ; 
but, like some execrable miscreant, on a gibbet; with lashes 
of the vile scourge on his back. Yes, the blessed Jesus bow- 
ed his expiring- head, on the accursed tree ; suspended be- 
tween heaven an6T~earfih, as an outcast from both, and un- 
worthy of either. 

What suitable returns of inflamed and adoring devotion can 
we make to the Holy One of God : thus dying, that we might 
live! dying in ignominy and anguish, that we might live for 
ever in the heights of joy, and sit for ever on thrones of glo- 
ry ? — Alas ! it is not in us, impotent, insensible mortals, to be 
duly thankful. He only, who confers such inconceivably rich 
favours, can enkindle a proper warmth of grateful affection. 
Then build thyself a monument, most gracious Immanuel ! 
build thyself an everlasting monument of gratitude in our 
souls. Inscribe the memory of thy matchless beneficence, 
not with ink and pen ; but with that precious blood, which 
gushed from thy wounded veins. Engrave it, not with the 
hammar and chizel ; but with that sharpened spear, which 
pierced thy sacred side. Let it stand conspicuous and inde- 
lible, not on outward tables of stone ; but on the very inmost 
tables of our hearts. 

One thing more let me observe, before I bid adieu to this 
intombed warrior, and his garnished sepulchre. How mean 
are these ostentatious methods, of bribing the vote of fame, 
and purchasing a little posthumous renown ! What a poor sub- 
stitute for a set of memorable actions, is polished alabaster, 
or the mimicry of sculptured marble ! The real excellency oF 
this bleeding patriot, f is written on the minds of his country- 



* 2 Sam. iii. 33. Of this indignity our Lord complains j * Are ye come 
out as against a thief?" Matth. xxvi. 55. 

t Sir Bevil Granville, slain in the civil wars, at an engagement with the 
rebels.— It may possibly he some entertainment to the reader, if I subjoin 
Sir Bevil's character as' it is drawn by that celebrated pen, which wrote 
the history of those calamitous times. •*-" That which would have clouded 
" any victory, says the noble historian, and made the loss of others less' 
<; spoken of, "was the death of Sir Bevill Granville. He was indeed an ex- 
" cellent person, whose activity, interest, and reputation, were the foun- 
" dation of what had been done in Cornwall : His temper and affections 
" so public, that no accident which happened, could make any impression 
" upon him? and his example kept others from taking any thing ill, or at 
* least seeming to do so. la a word, a blighter courage, and a gentler 



^2 MEDITATIONS 

men. It would be remembered with applause, so long- as the 
nation subsists, without this artificial expedient to perpetu- 
ate it. — And such, such is the monument I would wish for my- 
self. Let me leave a memorial in the breasts of my fellow- 
•ereatures. Let surviving- friends bear witness, that I have 
not lived to myself alone, nor been altogether unserviceable 
in my generation. O ! let an uninterrupted series of benefi- 
cent offices be the inscription ; and the best interests of my 
acquaintance, the plate that exhibits it. 

Let ihe poor as they pass by my grave, point at the little 
spot, and thankfully acknowledge — "There lies the man, whose 
44 unwearied kindness was the constant relief of my various 
'* distresses ; who tenderly visited-my languishing 1 bed, and 
«' readily supplied my indigent circumstances. How often 
" were his counsels a guide to my perplexed thoughts, and a 
** cordial to my dejected spii'it ! It is owing to God's blessing' 
" on his seasonable charities, and prudent consolations, that I 
" now live, and live in comfort." — Let a person once ignorant 
tnd ungodly, lift up his eyes to heaven, and say within himself, 
as he walks over my bones, " Here are the las> remains of 
*' that sincere friend who watched for my soul. I can never 
*' forget, with what heedless gaiety I was posting on in the 
" path of perdkion ; and I tremble to think, into what irre- 
" trievable ruin I might qnickly have been plunged, had not 
" his faithful admonition- arrested me in the wild career. I 
" was unacquainted wi'ii Hie gospel of peace, and had no 
*« concern for its unsearchable treasures ; but now, enlightened 
u by his instructive conversation, I see the all-sufficiency of 
*' my Saviour ; and, animated by his spirited exhortations, 
*' I count all things but loss, that I may win Christ. Me- 
■' thinks, his discourses, seasoned with religion, and set home 
" by the divine Spirit, still tingle in my ears ; are still warm on 
** my heart ; and, I trust, will be more and more operative, 
•' till we meet each other in the house not made with 
" hands, eternal in the heavens." 

The only infallible way of immortalizing our characters ; a 
way equally open to the "meanest and most exalted fortune ; 
is, " to make our calling and election sure ;" to gain some 
sweet evidence, that our names are written in heaven. Then, 
however they may be disregarded or forgotten among men, 
they will not fail to be had in everlasting remembrance before 

i .ition, were raver married together, to make the most cheerful and 
fanoceiit conversation." 

Clar. Hkt. Eebell. rol. \L 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 5$ 

the Lord. — This is, of all distinctions* far the noblest. This 
■will issue in never-dying" renown. Ambition, be this thy Ob- 
ject and every page of scripture will sanctify thy passion ; 
even grace itself will fan thy flame. — As to earthly memorials, 
yet a little while, and they are all obliterated. The tongue of 
those, whose happiness we have zealously promoted, must 
soon be silent in the coffin. Characters cut with a pen of iron, 
and committed to the solid rock, will ere long cease to be le- 
gible,* But as many as are enrolled " in the Lamb's book of 
life," he himself declares, shall never be blotted out from those* 
annals of Eternity.f When a flight of years has mouldered 
the triumphal column into dust; when the brazen statue pe- 
rishes, under the corroding hand of time ; those honours still 
continue ; still are blooming and incorruptible, in the world 
of glory. 

Make the extended skies your tomb ; 

Let stars record your worth: 
Yet know, vain mortals, all must die, 

As Nature's sickliest birth. 

JVVould bounteous Heav'n indulge my pray'r 3 

I frame a nobler choice ; 
Nor, living, wish the pompous pile ; 

Nor, dead, regret the loss. 

In thy fair book of life divine, 

My God, inscribe my name % 
There let it fill some humble place, 

Beneath the slaughter'd Lamb. 

Thy saints, while ages roll away, 

In endless fame survive ; 
Their glories, o'er the wrongs of time, 

Greatly triumphant, live. 

Yonder entrance leads, I suppose, to the vault, Let me 
turn aside and take one view of the habitation, and its te- 
nants, — The sullen door grates upon its hinges; Not used to 
receive many visitants, it admits me with reluctance and mur- 
murs. — What meaneth, this sudden trepidation," while I de- 
scend the steps, and am visiting the pale mansions of the df ad ? 

. * Data shb tipsis quoque fata sepulchtia, 
t Rer. iii. J. 
' E2 



H MEDITATIONS 

—Be composed, my spirits ; there is nothing to fear in these 
quiet chambers. " Here, even the wicked cease from trou- 
bling-. 

, Good Heavens ! what a solemn scene! — How dismal the 
gloom ! Here is perpetual darkness, and'night even at noon- 
day. — How doleful the solitude ! Not one trace of cheerful 
society ; but sorrow and terror seem to have made this their 
dreaded abode. — Hark! how the hollow dome resounds at 
every tread. The echoes, that long have slept, are awakened ; 
and lament, and sigh along the walls. 

A beam, or two, finds its way through the grates ; and re- 
flects a feeble glimmer, from the nails of the coffins. So 
many of those sad spectacles, half concealed in shades ; half 
,seen dimly by the baleful twilight ; add a deeper horror to 
these gloomy mansions. — I pore upon the inscriptions,— and 
am just able to pick cut, that these are the remains of the 
rich and renowned. No vulgar dead are deposited here. The 
most illustrious, and right honourable, have claimed this for 
their last retreat. And, indeed, they retain somewhat of a 
shadowy pre-eminence. They lie, ranged in mournful order, 
and in a sort of silent pomp, under the arches of an ample se- 
pulchre ; while meaner corpses, without much ceremony, 
** go down to the stones of the pit." 

My apprehensions recover from their surprise, I find, here 
are no phantoms, but such as fear raises. — However, it still 
amazes me, to observe the wonders of this nether world. 
Those who received vast revenues, and called whole lordships 
their own, are here reduced to half a dozen feet of earth, or 
confined in a few sheets of lead. Rooms of state, and sump- 
tuous furniture, are resigned ; for no other ornament than the 
shroud, for no other apartment than the darksome niche. — 
Where is the star, that blazed upon the breast ; or coronet 
that glittered round the temples ? The only remains of de- 
parted dignity are, the weather-beaten hatchment, and the 
tattered escutcheon. I see no splendid retinue surrounding 
this solitary dwelling. The lordly equipage hovers no longer 
about the lifeless master. He has no other attendant, than a 
dusty statue ; which while the regardless world is as gay as 
ever, the sculptor's hand has taught to weep. 

Those who gloried in high-born ancestors, and noble pedi- 
gree, here drop their lofty pretensions. They acknowledge 
kindred with creeping things, and quarter arms with the 
meanest reptiles. " They say to corruption, Thou art my fa- 
ther ; and to the worm, Thou art my mother, and my sister."— 
Qv, should they still assume the style of distinction, ah ! hovf 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 55 

impotent were the claim ? how apparent the ostentation ! Is 
it said by meir monuments, " Here lies the great." How 
easily is it replied by the spectator ! 

- False marble ! Where ? 



Nothing but poor and sordid dust lies here. 

Mortifying- truth ! Sufficient, one would think, to wean the 
most sanguine appetite from this transitory state of things 5 
from its sickly satisfactions, its fading glories, its vanishing 
treasures. 

For now, ye lying vanities of life ! 

Ye ever-tempting, ever-cheating train! 

Where are ye now ? and what is your amount ? 

What is all the world to these poor breathless beings? 
What are their pleasures ? A bubble broke. — What their ho- 
nours ? A dream that is forgotten r — What the sum total of 
their enjoyments below ? Once, perhaps, it appeared to inex- 
perienced and fond desire, something considerable : but now 
death hath measured it with his line, and weighed it in his 
scale.— What is the upshot 1 Alas ! it is shorter than a span ; 
lighter than the dancing spark ; and driven away like the dis- 
solving smoke. 

Indulge, my soul, a serious pause. Recollect all the gay 
things, that were wont to dazzle thy eyes, and inveigle thy 
affections. Here, examine those baits of sense ; here, form 
an estimate of their real value. Suppose thyself first among 
the favourites of fortune, who revel in the lap of pleasure, 
who shine in the robes of honour, and swim in tides of inex- 
hausted riches ; yet how soon would the passing-bell pro- 
claim thy exit ! and, when once that iron call has summoned 
thee to thy future reckoning-, where would all these gratifi- 
cations be I At that period, how will all the pageantry of 
the most affluent, splendid, or luxurious circumstances, va- 
nisti into empty air '.-—And is this a happiness, so passionately 
to be coveted ? 

I thank you, ye relics of sounding titles, and magnificent 
names. Ye have taught me more of the littleness of the world, 
than all the volumes of my library. Your nobility arrayed in 
a winding-sheet, your grandeur mouldering in an urn, are the 
most indisputable proofs of the nothingness of created things. 
Never, surely, did Providence write this important print, in 
such legible characters, as in the ashes of My Lord, or on 



MEDITATIONS 

the corpse of His Grace.* — Let others, if they please, pay 
their obsequious court to your wealthy sons ; and ignobly 
fawn, or anxiously sue, for preferments. My thoughts shall 
often resort, in pensive contemplation, to the sepulchres of 
their sires ; and learn, from their sleeping dust — to moderate 
my expectations from mortals — to stand disengaged from 
every undue attachment to the little interests of time — to get 
above the delusive amusements of honour, the gaudy tinsels 
of wealth, and all the empty shadows of a perishing world. 

Hark ! what sound is that ! — In such a situation, every 
noise alarms. — Solemn and slow, it breaks again upon the 
silent air. — It is the striking of the clock. Designed, one 
would imagine, to ratify all my serious meditations. Methinks, 
it says, Amen, and sets a seal, to every improving hint. It 
tells me, that another portion of my appointed time is elapsed. 
One calls it, " the knell of my departed hours." It is the 
watch-word to vigilance and activity. It cries in the ear of 
reason, " Redeem the time Catch the favourable gales of 
"opportunity: O! catch them, while they breathe; before 
*' they are irrecoverably lost. The span of life shortens con- 
** tinually. Thy minutes are all upon the wing, and hastening 
" to be gone. Thou art a borderer upon eternity ; and making 
" incessant advances to the state thou art contemplating." 
May the admonition sink deep into an attentive and obedient 
mind ! May it teach me that heavenly arithmetic, " of num- 
bering my days, and applying my heart unto wisdom." 

I have often walked, beneath the impending promontory's 
craggy cliff'; I have sometimes trod the vast spaces cf the 
lonely desert; and penetrated the inmost recesses of the 
dreary cavern : but never, never beheld nature louring, with 
so tremendous a form; never felt such impressions of awe, 
striking cold on my heart ; as under these black-browed 
arches, amidst these mouldy walls, and surrounded by such 
rueful objects, where melancholy, deepest melancholy, for 
ever spreads her raven wings. — Let me now emerge from the 
damp and dreadful obscurity. — Farewel, ye seats of desola- 
tion, and shades of death ! Gladly I revisit the realms of day. 

Having cast a superficial view upon these receptacles of the 
dead, curiosity prompts my inquiry to a more intimate survey. 
Could we draw back the covering of fhetomb ; could we dis- 
cern what those are now, who once were mortals — O ! how 
"Kouki it surprise, and grieve us ! Surprise us, to behold the 



- Mors sola fatetur 



quantum sim hominum cwpuscula.— - -Jtte< 



AMONG THE TOMBS, 5? 

prodigious transformation which has taken place on every in- 
dividual ; grieve us, to observe the dishonour done to our 
nature in general, within these subterraneous lodgments! 

Here the sweet and winning aspect, that wore perpetually 
an attractive smile, grins horribly* a naked, ghastly skull — 
The eye that outshone the diamond's brilliancy, and glanced 
ks lovely lightning irto the most guarded heart ; alas, where 
is it ? Where shall we find the rolling sparkler ? how are all 
its sprightly beams eclipsed! totally eclipsed!— The tongue, 
that once commanded all the sweetness of harmony, and all 
the power of eloquence, in this strange land, has " forgot its 
cunning." Where are now those strains of harmony which 
ravished our ears 3 Where is that flow of persuasion, which 
carried captive our judgments ? The g'reat master of lan- 
guage, and of song, is become silent as the night that sur- 
rounds him. The pampered flesh, so lately clothed in pui'ple 
and fine linen, how is it covered rudely with clods of clay ! 
There was a time, when the timorously nice creature would 
scarce " adventure to set a foot upon the ground, for delicate- 
ness and tenderness ;"* but is now enwrapped in clammy 
earth, and sleeps on no softer a pillow than the ragged gravel- 
stones.— .-Here, "the strong men bow themselves.'' The ner- 
vous arm is unstrung ; the brawny sinews are relaxed; the 
limbs, not long ago the seats of vigour and activity, lie down 
motionless ; and the bones, which were as bars of iron, are 
crumbled into dust. 

Here the man of business forgets all his favourite schemes,, 
and discontinues the pursuit of gain. — Here is a total stand 
to the circulation of merchandise, and the hurry of trade. In 
these solitary recesses, as in the building of Solomon's tem- 
ple, is heard no sound of the hammer and axe. The winding- 
sheet, and the coffin, are the utmost bound of all earthly de- 
vices. " Hitherto may they go, but no farther." — Here, the 
sons of pleasure take a final fare wel of their dear delights. 
No more is the sensualist anointed with oil, or crowned with 
rose-buds. He chants no more to the melody of the viol, nor 
revels any longer at the banquet of wine. Instead of sump- 
tuous tables, and delicious treats, the poor voluptuary is him- 
self a feast for fattened insects ; the reptile riots in his flesh ; 
** the worm feeds sweetly on him. | — Here also beauty fails ; 
bright beauty drops her lustre here. O ! how her roses fade, 
and her lilies languish in this bleak soil! How does the grand 

* De«, ssvja, 5§= t Job ssir. 20. 



58 MEDITATIONS 

leveller pour contempt upon the charmer of our hearts ! how 
turn to deformity what captivated the world before ! 

Could the lover have a sight of his once inchanting fair- 
one, what a startling- astonishment would Seize him ! — "Is 
" this the object I not long ago so passionately admired ! I 
'* said she was divinely fair; and thought her somewhat more 
'* than mortal. Her form was symmetry itself; every ele- 
**. gance breathed in her air ; and all the graces waited on 
" her motions — It was music when she spoke : but, when 
" she spoke encouragement, it was little less than rapture. 
** How my heart danced to those charming accents ! — and 
M can that, which some weeks ago was to admiration lovely, 
" be now so insufferably loathsome ? Where are those blush. - 
" ing cheeks ? where the coral lips ? where that ivory neck, 
" on which the curling- jet, in such glossy ringlets, flowed? 
'* with a thousand other beauties of person, and ten thousand 
" delicacies of action ?* — Amazing alteration ! delusory bliss ! 
" — Fondly I gazed upon the glittering meteor. It shone 
" brightly, and I mistook it for a star ; for a permanent and 
" substantial good. But how is it fallen ! fallen from an orb, 
""not its own ! and all that I can trace en earth, is but a pu- 
" trid mass." 

Lie, poor Florella ! lie deep, as thou dost, in obscure dark- 
ness. Let night, with her impenetrable shades, always con- 
ceal thee. May no prying eye be witness to thy disgrace ; 
but let thy surviving sisters think upon thy state, when they 
contemplate the idol in the glass. When the pleasing image 
rises gracefully to view, surrounded with a world of charms, 
and flushed with joy at the consciousness of them all ; — .hen, 
in those minutes of temptation and dangers, when vanity uses 
to steal into the thoughts, — then, let them remember, what 
a veil of horror is drawn over a face, which was once beau- 
tiful and brilliant as theirs. Such a seasonable reflection 
might regulate the labours of the toilet, and create a more 
earnest solicitude, to polish the jewels, than to varnish the 
casket. It might then become their highest ambition, to have 
the mind decked with divine virtues, and dressed after the 
amiable pattern of their Redeemer's holiness. 

And would this prejudice their persons, or depreciate their 
charms ? — Quite the reverse. It would spread a sort of hea* 

* Quo ftigit Venus ? Ht u ! Quove color ! decens 
Quo iiidius ? Quid habet illius. illius. 
Qt'::- .y.irabat amores, 

Qcue ias lurpuerat milii N- — Ilvr. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. S9 

venlV glory over the finest set of features, and heighten the 
loveliness of every other engaging- accomplishment — And, 
what is yet a more inviting consideration, these flowers would 
not wither with nature, nor be tarnished by time ; but would 
open continually into richer beauties, and flourish even in the 
winter of age. — But the most incomparable recommendation 
of these noble dualities, is, that from their hallowed relics, as 
from the fragrant ashes of the phoenix, will ere-long arise an 
illustrious form bright as the wings of angels, lasting as the 
light of the new Jerusalem. 

For my part, the remembrance of this sad revolution shall 
make me ashamed to pay my devotion to a shrine of perish- 
ing flesh, and afraid to expect all my happiness from so brittle 
a joy. It shall teach me, not to think too highly of well pro- 
portioned clay, though formed in the most elegant mould, and 
animated with the sweetest soul. It is heaven's last, best, 
and crowning gift, — to be received with gratitude, and che- 
rish with love, as a most valuable blessing ; not worshipped 
with the incense of flattery, and strains of fulsome adoration, 
as a goddess. — It will cure, I trust, the dotage of my eyes : 
and incline me. always to prefer the substantial " ornaments 
of a meek and virtuous spirit," before the transient decora- 
tions of white and red on the skin. 

Here I called in my roving meditations from their long ex- 
cursion on this tender subject. Fancy listened a while to the 
-soliloquy of a lover. Now judgment resumes the reins, and 
guides my thoughts to more near and self-interesting inqui- 
ries. — However, upon a. review of the whole scene, crouded 
with spectacles of mortality, and trophies of death, I could 
not forbear smiting my breast, and fetching a sigh, and la- 
menting over the noblest of all visible beings, laid prostrate 
junder the feet of " the pale horse, and his rider."*' — I could 
not forbear repeating that pathetic exclamation ; " O ! thou 
Adam, what hast thou done !'*f What desolation has thy dis- 
obedience wrought in the earth ! — See the malignity, the ru- 
inous malignity of sin ! Sin has demolished so many stately 
structures of flesh; sin has made such havoc, among the 
most excellent ranks of God's lower creation ; and sin (that 
deadly bane of our nature) would have plunged our better part 
into the execrable horrors of the nethermost hell, had not our 
merciful Mediator interposed, and given himself for our ran- 

* Rer, yl 8 , f % < Eed. tH. *f , 



60 MEDITATIONS 

som. — Therefore, what grateful acknowledgements does the 
•whole world of penitent sinners owe ; what ardent returns of 
love will a whole heaven of glorified believers pay, to such a 
friend, benefactor, and deliverer ! 

Musing- upon these melancholy objects, a faithful remem- 
brancer suggested from within — «< Must this sad change suc- 
" ceed in me also ? Am I to draw my last gasp ; to become a 
" breathless corpse; and be what I deplore ?* Is there a time 
" approaching, when this body shall be carried out upon the 
" bier, and consigned to its clay-cold bed ? while some kind 
" acquaintance, perhaps, may drop one parting tear ; and cry, 
"alas! my brother! is the time approaching?" Nothing is 
more certain. A decree, much surer than the laws of the 
Medes and Persians, has irrevocably determined the doom. 

Should one of these ghastly figures burst from his confine- 
ment, and start vp, in frightful deformity, before me; should 
the haggard skeleton lift a clattering hand, and point it full in 
my view ; should it open the stiffened jaws, and, with a hoarse 
tremendous murmur, break this profound silence ; snould it 
accost me, as Samuel's apparition addressed the trembling king, 
" The Lord shall deliver thee also into the hands of death ; yet a 
little while, and thou shalt be with me."y — The solemn warn- 
ing, delivered in so striking a manner, must strongly impress 
my imagination. A messenger in thunder would scarce sink 
deeper. — Yet there' is abundantly greater reason to be alarm- 
ed, by that express declaration of the Lord God Almighty, 
** Thou shalt surely die " — Well then, since sentence is pass- 
ed; since lam a condemned man, and know not when the 
dead-warrant may arrive ; let me die to sin, and die to the 
world ; before I die beneath the stroke of a righteous God. 

* I pas? with melancholy state. 
By all these solemn heaps of fate; 
And think, as soft and sad I tread 
Above the venerable dead. 
" Time was, like me, they life possess'd; 
" And time will be, when I shall rest." Parnel. 

t 1 Sam. xxviii. 19. On this place, the Dutch translator of the Meditations 
fens suhlecl a note ; to correct, very probably, what he supposes a mistake. 
On the, same supposition, I presume, the compilers of our rubric ordered the 
last verse of Kcelus. xlvi. to be omitted in the daily service of the church. 
But that the sentiment, hinted above, is strictly true ; that it was Samuel 
himself (not an infernal spirit, personating the prophet) who appeared to 
the female necromancer at Endor ; appeared, not in compliance with any 
diabolical incantation, but in pursuance of the divine coins, i ,ion ; this. I 
think, is fully proved iu the Historical Account of the Life of David. Vol. 
I* chap. 23. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 61 

Let me employ the little uncertain interval of respite from 
execution, in preparing 1 for a happier state and a better life ; 
that when the fatal moment comes, and I am commanded to 
shut my eyes upon all things here below, I may open them 
again, to see my Saviour in the mansions above 

Since this body, which is so fearfully and wonderfully made, 
must fall to pieces in the grave ; since I must soon resign all 
my bodily powers to darkness, inactivity, and corruption ; let 
it be my constant care to use them well, while I possess them. 
— Let my hands be stretched forth to relieve the needy; and 
always be more " ready to give, than to receive." — Let my 
knees bend, in deepest humiliation, before the throne of grace ; 
while my eyes are cast down to the earth, in penitential con- 
fusion ; or devoutly looking up to heaven, for pardoning mer- 
cy ! — In every friendly interview, let the " law of kindness 
dwell on my lips ;" or rather, if the seriousness of my ac- 
quaintance permits, let the gospel of peace flow from my 
tongue. O ! that I might be enabled, in every public con- 
eourse, to lift up my voice like a trumpet ; and pour abroad 
a more joyful sound, than its most melodious accents, in pro- 
claiming' the glad tidings of free salvation !— -Be shut, my 
ears, resolutely shut, against the malevolent whispers of slan- 
der, and the contagious breath of filthy talking. But be swift 
to hear the instructions of Wisdom ; be all attention when 
your Redeemer speaks ; imbibe the precious truths, and con- 
vey them carefully to the heart. — Carry me, my feet, to the 
temple of the Lord ; to the beds of the sick, and houses of 
the poor. — May all ray members, devoted entirely to my di- 
vine Master, be the willing instruments of promoting his 
glory ! 

Then, ye embalmers, you may spare your pains: these 
works of faith, and labours of love ; these shall be my spices 
and perfumes. Enwrapped in these, I would lay me gently- 
down, and sleep sweetly in the blessed Jesus! hoping, that 
God will " give commandment concerning my bones !" and 
one day fetch them up from the dust, as silver from the fur- 
nace, purified, " I say not seven times, but seventy times 
seven." 

Here my contemplation took wing, and, in an instant, 
alighted in the garden adjoining to mount Calvery. Having 
viewed the abode of my deceased fellow-creatures, methought 
I longed to see the place where our Lord lay .— And, O ! what 
a marvellous spectacle was once exhibited in this memorable 
sepulchre '.—He, " who clothes himself with light, as with a 
F 



62 MEDITATIONS 

garment; and walks upon the wings of the wind;"* he was 
pleased to wear the habiliments of mortality, and dwelt among 
the prostrate dead. Who can repeat the wondrous truth too 
often ? who can dwell upon the transporting theme too long ? 
He, who sits enthroned in glory, and diffuses bliss among all 
the heavenly hosts ; he was once a pale and bloody corpse, 
and pressed this little spot, 

O Death ! how great was thy triumph in that hour ! Never 
did thy gloomy realms contain such a prisoner before. — Pri- 
soner, did I say ? No : he was more than conqueror. He 
arose, far more mightily than Samson, from a transient 
slumber ; broke down the gates, and demolished the strong 
holds of those dark dominions. — And this, O mortals ! this 
is your only consolation and security. Jesus has trod the 
dreadful path, and smoothed it for your passage. — Jesus, 
sleeping in the chambers of the tomb, has brightened the dis- 
mal mansion, and left an inviting odour in those beds of dust. 
The dying Jesus (never let the comfortable truth depart 
from your minds ! the dying Jesus) is your sure protection, 
your unquestionable passport, through the territories of the 
grave. Believe in him, and they shall prove a «* highway to 
Sion ;" shall transmit you safe to paradise. Believe in him, 
and you shall be no losers, but unspeakable gainers by your 

* The sacred scriptures, speaking of the Supreme Seine say,—" He 
Walketh upon the waves of the sea ;" to denote his uncontrolable power, 
Job ix. 8.—" He walketh in the circuit of heaven ; to express the immen- 
sity of his presence, Job xxii, 14.— ; ' He walketh upon the wings of the 
wind ;" to signify the amazing sw iftness of his operations, Psal. civ. 3.— 
In which last phrase, there is, 1 think, an elegance and emphasis, not ta- 
ken notice of by our commentators, and yet unequalled in any writer.— 
Not, he flieth ; he runneth ; bift, he walketh : and that, on the very wings 
of the wind ; on the most impetuous of elements, roused into its utmost 
rage, and sweeping along w ith inconceivable rapidity.— A tumult in na- 
ture, not to be described, is the composed and sedate work of the Deity. 
A speed not to be measured, is (with reverence I use the expression, and 
to comport with our low methods of conception) the solemn and majestic 
foot-pace of Jehovai..— How flat are the following lines, even in the great- 
est master of Lyric song. 



Ocyor cervis, et agente nimbos 
Ocyor Euro, 

when compared with this inimitable sti-oke of divine poetry!—" He walk- 
«ih upon the wings of the wind." 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 63 

dissolution. For, bear what the oracle of heaven says upon 
this important point : " Whoso believeth in me, shall never 
die." — What sublime and emphatical language is this ! Thus 
much, at least, it must import: — "The nature of that last 
" change shall be surprisingly altered for the better. It shall 
" no longer be inflicted, as a punishment, but rather be vouch- 
" safed, as a blessing. To such persons, it shall come at- 
" tended with such a train of beneiits,as will render it a kind 
" of happy impropriety to call it dying. Dying i No ; it is 
" then they truly begin to live. Their exit is the end of their 
" frailty, and their entrance upon perfection. Their last groan 
" is the prelude to life and immortality." 

O ye timorous souls, that are terrified at the sound of the 
passing bell ; that turn pale at the sight of an opened grave ; 
and can scarce behold a coffin, or a skull, without a shudder- 
ing horror : ye that are in bondage to the grisly tyrant, and 
tremble at the shaking of his iron rod, cry mightily to the Fa- 
ther of your spirits, for faith in his dear Son. Faith will free 
you from your slavery .f Faith will embolden you to tread on 
(this fiercest of) serpents. + Old Simeon, clasping the child 
Jesus in the arms of his flesh, and the glorious Mediator in 
the arms of his faith, departs with tranquillity and peace. 
That bitter persecutor Saul, having won Christ, being- found 
in Christ, longs to be dismissed from cumbrous clay, and kin- 



■f" Death's terror is the mountain faitli removes : 

'Tis faith disarms destruction 

Believe, and look with triumph on the tomb. 

These, and some other quotations, I am proud to borrow from the Night 
Thoughts, especially from Night the Fourth. In which, energy of lan- 
guage, sublimity of sentiment, and the most exquisite beauties pf poetry, 
are the least perfections to he admired. Almost every lina glows with de- 
votion ; rises into the most exalted apprehensions of the adorable Redeem- 
er ; and is animated with the most lively faith in his aU-sufikhrat media- 
tion. The author of this excellent performance has the peculiar felicity, 
of ennoblmg all the strength of style, and every delicacy of imagination, 
with the grand and momentous truths of Christianity. These thoughts 
give the highest entertainment to the fancy, and impart the noblest im- 
provement to the mind. They not only refine our taste, but prepare us 
for death, and ripen us for gloi-y. I never take up this admirable piece, but 
I am ready to ciy out, — Tecum vivere amem, tecum obeam libens; i. e. 
a Inspire me with such a spirit, and life shall be delightful, nor death itself 
* unwelcome." 

% Lukes. 19. 



64 MEDITATIONS 

dies into rapture at the prospect of dissolution.* Methinks I 
see another of Immanuel's followers, trusting* in his Saviour, 
leaning- on his beloved, go down to the silent shades with 
composure and alacrity, f In this powerful name, an innume- 
rable company of sinful creatures have set up their banners, 
and " overcome through the blood of the Lamb." Authorized 
by the Captain of thy salvation, thou also mayest set thy feet 
upon the neck of this king- of terrors. Furnished with this 
antidote, thou also mayest play around the hole of the asp, 
and put thy undaunted hand on this cockatrice-den4 Thou 
mayest feel the viper fastening- to thy mortal part, and fear 
-no evil ;§ thou shalt one day shake it oil' by a joyful resurrec- 
tion, and suffer no harm. 

Resurrection ! that cheering- word eases my mind of an 
anxious thought, and solves a most momentous question. I 
was going to ask, " Wherefore do all these corpses lie here, 
*-* in this abject condition ? Is this their final state ? Has death 
" conquered, and will the tyrant hold captivity captive ? How 
* ; long wilt thou forg-et them, O Lord ! For ever ?" — No, saith 
the voice from heaven, the word of divine revelation, the 
righteous are all " prisoners of hope."|| There is an hour (an 
awful secret that, and known only to all-foreseeing Wisdom) 
an appointed hour there is, when an act of grace will pass the 
great seal above, and give them an universal discharge, a ge- 
neral delivery from the abodes of corruption. — Then shall the 
Lord Jesus descend from b javen, with the shout of the arch- 
angel, and the trump of God. Destruction itself shall hear 
his call, and the obedient grave give up her dead. In a mo- 
ment, in- the twinkling of an eye, they shake oif the sleep of 
ten thousand years ; and spring forth, like the bounding roe, 
to ". meet their Lord in the air." 

And, O ! with what cordial congratulations, what transport- 
ing endearments, do the soul and body, those affectionate 
companions, re-unite ! but with how much greater demonstra- 
tions of kindness, are they both received by their compassion- 
ate Redeemer ! The Ancient of days, who comes in the 
clouds of heaven, is their friend, their father, their bride- 
groom. He comes with irresistible power and infinite glory ; 
but they have nothing to fear from his majestic appearance. 
Those tremendous solemnities, which spread desolation and 
astonishment through the universe, serve only to inflame their 
love, and heighten their hopes. The Judge, the awful Judge, 

• Phil. i. 23. 2 Tim. iv. 7, 8. f 2 Pet. i. 1-1. % I». xi. 9. 

§ Acts xxriii. 35. [I Zech. ix. 12. 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 65 

amidst all his magnificence and splendor, vouchsafes to con- 
fess their names ; vouchsafes to commemorate their fidelity, 
before all the inhabitants of the skies ; and the whole assem- 
bled world. 

Hark ! the thunders are hushed. See the lightnings cease 
their rage. The ang;elic armies stand in silent suspense. The 
"whole race of Adam is wrapped up in pleasing*, or anxious ex- 
pectations.— And, now, that adorable person, whose favour is 
better than life ; whose acceptance is a crown of glory, lifts up 
the light of his countenance upon the righteous. He speaks ; 
and what ravishing words proceed from his gracious lips ! 
what ecstacies of delight they enkindle in the breasts of the 
faithful! — " I accept you, O my people ! Ye are they that be- 
" lieve in my name. Ye are they that renounce yourselves, 
" and are complete in me. I see no spot or blemish in you ; 
" for ye are washed in my blood, and clothed with my righte- 
" ousness. Renewed by my Spirit, ye have glorified me on. 
et earth, and have been faithful unto death. Come, then, ye 
fl servants of holiness, enter into the joy of your Lord. Come, 
" ye children of light, ye blessed of my Father, receive the 
i( kingdom that shall never be removed : wear the crown, 
(i which fadeth not away; and enjoy pleasures for ever- 
" more !" 

Then it will be one of the smallest privileg-es of the righte- 
ous, that they shall languish no more ; that sickness will never 
again shew her pale countenance ifi their dwellings.* Death 
itself will be " swallowed up in victory." That fatal javelin, 
which has drank the blood of monarchs, and finds its way to 
the hearts of all the sons of Adam, shall be utterly brokenv 
That enormous scythe, which has struck empires from their 
root, and swept ages and generations into oblivion, shall lie by 
in perpetual uselesness. Sin also, which filled thy quiver, thou 
insatiate archer ?— Sin, which strung thy arm with resistless 
vigour, which pointed all thy shafts with inevitable destruc- 
tion^ — sin will then be done away. Whatever is frail, or de- 
praved, will be thrown off with our grave-clothes. All to 
come is perfect holiness and consummate happiness } the terra 
of whose continuance is Eternity. 

* Isaiah, speaking of the new Jerusalem, mentions this as one of its im- 
munities : The inhabitants thereof shall no more say, I am sick. Another ] 
clause, in its royal charter, runs thus : God shall wipe away all tears from 
their eyes : and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying nei- 
ther shall there be any more paia« Isa. xxxiii. 24^ Key. ssi. 4, 
. F2 



66 MEDITATIONS 

O Eternity ! Eternity I How are our boldest, our strongest 
thoughts lost and overwhelmed in thee ? Who can set land- 
marks, to limit thy dimensions ; or find plummets, to fathom 
thy depths ? Arithmeticians have figures, to compute all the 
progressions of time. Astronomers have instruments to cal- 
culate the distances of the planets. But what numbers can 
state, what lines can guage, the lengths and breadths of eter- 
nity ? « It is higher than heaven ; what canst thou do ? deeper 
than hell ; what canst thou know ? The measure thereof is 
longer than the earth, broader than the sea." 

Mysterious, mighty existence ! A sum not to be lessened by 
the largest deductions ! an extent not to be contracted by all 
possible diminutions ! None can truly say, after the most pro- 
digious waste of ages ; " So much of eternity is gone." For 
when millions of centuries are elapsed, it is but just com- 
' mencing ; and when millions more have run their ample round, 
it will be no nearer ending. Yea, when ages, numerous as 
the bloom of spring, increased by the herbage of summer, both 
augmented by the leaves of autumn, and all multiplied by the 
drops of rain which drown the winter ; — when these, and ten 
thousand times ten thousand more — more than can be repre- 
sented by any similitude, or imagined by any conception ; — 
when all these are revolved and finished, eternity, vast, bound- 
less, amazing eternity ! will only be beginning ! 

What a pleasing, yet awful thought is this ! Full of delight, 
and full of dread. O ! may it alarm our fears, quicken our 
hopes, and animate all our endeavours ! Since we are soon to 
launch into this endless and inconceivable state, let us give all 
diligence to secure our entrance into bliss.— Now let us give 
all diligence ; because there is no alteration in the scenes of 
futurity. The wheel never turns : all is steadfast and im- 
moveable beyond the grave. Whether we are then seated 
on the throne, or stretched on the rack ; a seal will be set to 
our condition by the hand of everlasting mercy, or inflexible 
justice. — The saints always rejoice amidst the smiles of hea- 
ven ; their harps are perpetually tuned; their triumphs admit 
of no interruption. — The ruin of the wicked is irremediable. 
The fatal sentence, once passed, is never to be repealed. No 
hope of exchanging their doleful habitations. But all things 
bear the same dismal aspect, for ever and ever. 

The wicked — My mind recoils f at the apprehension of their 
misery. It has studiously waved the fearful subject, and 

* Job xi. 8. 9. 

t Animus mejaimsse lionet, luctuque refagU.— Y'trg^ * 



AMONG THE TOMES. 67 

seems unwilling to pursue it even now, — But it is better to 
reflect upon it for a few minutes, than to endure it to eternal 
ages. Perhaps, the consideration of their aggravated misery 
may be profitably terrible ; may teach me more highly to prize 
the Saviour, who " delivers from going down into the bottom- 
less pit;" may drive me like the avenger's sword, to this on- 
ly city of refuge for obnoxious sinners. 

The wicked seem to lie here, like malefactors, in a deep 
and strong dungeon ; reserved against the day of trial.— 
" Their departure was without peace. Clouds of horror sat 
louring upon their closing eye-lids, most sadly foreboding the 
*' blackness of darkness for ever." When the last sickness 
seized their frame, and the inevitable change advanced ; 
when they saw the fatal arrow fitting- to the strings, saw the 
deadly archer aiming at their heart, and felt the envenomed 
shaft fastened in their vitals ; — Good God ! what fearfulness 
came upon them ! what horrible dread overwhelmed them ! 
How did they stand shuddering and aghast upon the tremen- 
dous precipice ! excessively afraid to plunge into the abyss 
of eternity, yet utterly unable to maintain their standing on 
the verge of life. 

O ! what pale reviews, what startling prospects, conspire 
to augment their sorrows ! — They look backward, and be- 
hold ! a most melancholy scene ! Sins unrepented of; mercy 
slighted ; and the day of grace ending ! — They look forward, 
and nothing presents itself, but the righteous Judge, the 
dreadful tribunal, and a most solemn reckoning. — They roll 
around their affrighted eyes, on attending friends. If ac- 
complices in debauchery : it sharpens their anguish, to con- 
sider this farther aggravation of their guilt, that they have 
not sinned alone, but drawn others into the snare. If reli- 
gious acquaintance ; it strikes a fresh gash into their hearts, 
to think of never seeing them any more, but only at an unap- 
proachable distance, separated by the unpassable gulf. 

At last, perhaps, they begin to pray. Finding no other 
possible way of relief, they are constrained to apply unto the 
Almighty. With trembling lips, and a faultering tongue, they 
cry unto that Sovereign Being. " who kills and makes alive." 
— But why have they deferred, so long deferred their ad- 
dresses to God? Why have they despised all his counsels, and 
stood incorrigible under his incessant reproofs ? How often 
have they been forewarned of these terrors, and most impor- 
tunately intreated to seek the Lord while he might be found ? 
— I wish they may obtain mercy at the eleventh, at the last 
hour. I wish they may be snatched from the jaws, the open- 



68 MEDITATIONS 

ed, the gaping, the almost closing jaws of damnation. But, 
alas! who can tell, whether affronted Majesty will lend an 
ear to their complaint ; whether the Holy One will work a 
miracle of grace in behalf of such transgressors ? He may, 
for aught any mortal knows, "laugh at their calamity, and 
mock when their fear cometh." 

Thus they lie groaning 1 out the poor remains of life ; their 
limbs bathed in sweat; their heart struggling with convulsive 
throes ; pains insupportable throbbing in every pulse ; and 
innumerable darts of agony transfixing their conscience. 

In that dread moment, how the frantic soul 
Raves round the walls of her clay tenement ; 
Runs to each avenue, and shrieks for help ; 
But shrieks in vain ! How wishfully she looks 
On all she's leaving, now no longer her's ! 
A little longer, yet a little longer, 
Oh ! might she stay to wash away her crimes, 
And fit her for her passage ! Mournful sight 1 
Her very eyes weep blood: and every groan 
Sje heaves, is big with horror: But the foe, 
Like a staunch murd'rer, steady to his purpose, 
Pursues her close through ev'ry lane of life, 
Nor misses once the track ; but presses on ; 
Till, forc'd at last to the tremendous verge, 
At once she sinks. — * 

If this be the end of the ungodly — " My soul, come not 
thou into their secret ? unto their assembly, mine honour, be 
not thou united!" — How awfully accomplished is that pre- 
diction of inspired wisdom ! Sin, though seemingly sweet in 
the commission, v yet, " at the last, it biteth like a serpent, 
and stingeth like an adder."Fly therefore from the tents, O ! 
fly from the ways of such wretched men. 

Happy dissolution ! were this the period of their woes. But, 
alas ? all these tribulations are only "the beginning of sorrows;"* 
a small drop only from that " cup of trembling," which is 
mingled for their future portion. — No sooner has the last pang 
dislodged their reluctant souls, but they are hurried into the 
presence of an injured angry God ; not under the conducting 
care of beneficent angels, but exposed to the insults of ac- 
cursed spirits, who lately tempted them, now upbraid them, 
and will for ever torment them. — Who can imagine their con- 

* See a valuable poem, entitled The Grave, 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 69 

fusion and distress, when they stand guilty and inexcusable 
before their incensed Creator ? They are received with frowns. 
The God that made them, has no " mercy on them."* The 
Prince of Peace rejects them with abhorrence. He consigns 
them over to chains of darkness, and receptacles of despair ; 
against the severer doom, and more public infamy, of the great 
day. — Then all the vials of wrath will be emptied upon these 
wretched creatures. The law they have violated, and the 
gospel they have slighted ; the power they have defied, and 
the goodness they have abused; will all get themselves honour 
in their exemplary destruction. Then God, the God to whom 
vengeance belongeth, will draw the a .row to the very head, 
and set them as the mark of his inexorable displeasure. 

Resurrection will be no privilege to them ; but immortality 
itself, their everlasting curse. — Would they not bless the 
grave, " that land where all things are forgotten ;" and wish 
to lie eternally hid, in its deepest gloom I But the dust refuses 
to conceal their persons, or to draw a veil over their practices. 
They also must awake, must arise, must appear at the bar, 
and meet the Judge. A Judge, before whom, "the pillars of 
heaven tremble, and the earth melts away." A Judge, once 
long-suffering, and very compassionate: but now unalterably 
determined to teach stubborn offenders — what it is to provoke 
the Omnipotent Godhead ; what it is to trample on the blood 
of his Son, and offer despite to all the gracious overtures of 
his Spirit. 

O ! the perplexity ! the distraction ! that must seize the 
impenitent l'ebels, when they are summoned to the great tri- 
bunal !— -What will they do in this day of severe visitation ? 
tlus day of final decision ? — Where ? how • whence, can ".hey 
find help ? — To which of the saints will they turn ? whither 
betake themselves for shelter or for succour I Alas ! it is all in 
vain ; it is all too late. — Friends and acquaintance know them 
no more. Men and angels abandon them to their approach- 
ing doom. Even the Mediator, the Mediator himself, deserts 
them in this_dreadful hour. — To fly, will be impracticable ; to 
justify themselves, still more impossible ; and now, to make 
any supplications, utterly unavailable. 

Behold, the books are opened. ~ The secrets of all hearts 
are disclosed. The hidden things of darkness are brought to 
light How empty, how ineffectual now, are all those refined 
artifices, with which hypocrites imposed upon their fellow- 
creatures, and preserved a character in the sight of men !— 

*I-^, xxvii. II. 



70 MEDITATIONS 

The jealous God, who has been about their path, and about 
their bed, and espied out all their ways, sets before them the 
thing's they have done. They cannot answer him one in a 
thousand, nor stand in the awful judgment. " The heavens 
reveal their iniquities, and the earth rises up against them." 
They are speechless with guilt, and stigmatized with infamy, 
before all the armies of the sky, and all the nations of the re- 
deemed. — What a favour would they esteem it, to hide their 
ashamed heads in the bottom of the ocean, or even to be bu- 
ried beneath the ruins of the tottering world! 

If the contempt poured upon them be thus insupportable, 
how will their hearts endure, when the sword of infinite in- 
dignation is unsheathed, and fiercely waved around their de- 
fenceless heads, or pointed directly at their naked breasts ? 
How must the wretches scream with wild amazement, and 
rend the very heavens with their cries, when the right-aiming 
thunderbolts go abroad ! go abroad, with a dread commis- 
sion, to drive them from the kingdoms of glory ; and plunge 
them — not into the sorrows of a moment, or the tortures of 
an hour — but into all the restless agonies, of unquenchable 
fire, and everlasting despair.j- 

Misery of miseries ! too shocking for reflection to dwell 
upon. But, if so dismal to foresee, and that at a distance, to- 
gether with some comfortable expectation of escaping it — O! 
how bitter, inconceivably bitter to bear, without any intermis- 
sion, or any mitigation, through hopeless and eternal ages ! 

Who has any bowels of pity ? who has any sentiments of 
compassion ? who has any tender concern for his fellow-crea- 
tures ? who ? — In God's name, and for Christ's sake, let him 
shew it, by warning- every man, and beseeching every man, to 
seek the Lord while he maybe found; to throw down the arms 
of rebellion, before the act of indemnity expires ; submissive- 
ly to adore the Lamb, while he holds out the golden sceptre. 
— Here let us act the friendly part to mankind ; here let the 
whole force of our benevolence exert itself; in exhorting re- 
lations, acquaintance, neighbours, whomsoever we may pro- 
bably influence, to take the wings of faith unfeigned, of re- 
pentance undelayed, and flee away from this wrath to come. 

* Job xx. 27. 

«f Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace 
Anu rest can never dwell ; hope never comes, 
That comes to all : But torture without end 
Still urges, and a fiery deluge, f< <i 
With evjr-buriiiug sulphur uu^iiium'd. Miltm 



AMONG THE TOMBS. 71 

Upon the whole, what stupendous discoveries are these ! 
Lay them up in a faithful remembrance, O my soul ! Recollect 
them with the most serious attention, when thou liest down, 
and when thou risest up. When thou walkest, receive them 
for thy companions ; when thou talkest, listen to them as thy 
prompters ; and whatever thou doest, consult them as thy di- 
rectors. — Influenced by these considerations, thy views will 
greaten, thy affections be exalted, and thou thyself raised above 
the tantalizing power of perishing things. Duly mindful of 
these, it wilL be the sum of" thy desires, and the scope of thy 
endeavours, to gain the approbation of that Sovereign Being, 
who will then fill the throne, and pronounce the decisive sen- 
tence. Thou wilt see nothing worth a wish,* in comparison 
of having- his will for thy rule, his glory for thy aim, and his 
Holy Spirit for thy ever actuating principle. 

Wonder, O man ! be lost in admiration, at those prodigious 
events, which are coming upon the universe ! Events, the 
greatness of which nothing finite can measure. Such as will 
cause whatever is considerable or mornentbns in the annals of 
all generations, to sink into littleness and nothing. Events 
(Jesus, prepare us for their approach ! defend us when they 
take place !) big with the everlasting fates of all the living, 
and all the dead. 

I must see the graves cleaving-, the sea teeming, and swarms 
unsuspected, crouds unnumbered; yea, multitudes of throng- 
ing nations, rising from both. 

I must see the world in flames : must stand at the dissolu- 
tion of all terrestial things, and be an attendant on the burial of 
nature. I must see the vast expanse of the sky, wraptup like 
a scroll ; and the incarnate God, issuing forth from light inac- 
cessible, with ten thousand ti mes ten thousand angels, to judge 
both men and devils. I must see the curtain of time drop ; 
see all eternity disclosed to view ; and enter upon a state of 
being, that will never, never, have an end. 

And ought I not (let the vainest imagination determine ; 
ought I not) to try the sincerity of my faith, and take heed 
to my ways ? Is there an inquiry ; is there a care; of greater, 
of equal, of comparable importance? — Is not this an infinitely 
pressing call, to see that my loins are girded about, my lamp 
trimmed, and myself dressed for the bridegroom's appear- 
ance ? That, washed in the fountain ©pened in my Saviour's 

* Great day of dread, decision; and despair! 
At thought of thee, each sublunary vish 
L?ts go its eager grasp, aiwl quits the world,— Nig&t-Thetxglit#. 



n MEDITATIONS 

side, and clad with the marriage-garment wove by his obedi- 
ence, I may be found in peace, unblameable, and unreprovable # 
— Otherwise, how shall I stand with boldness, when the stars cf 
heaven fall from their orbs ? How shall 1 come forth erec^ 
and courageous, when the earth itself reels to and fro like a 
drunkard ?* How shall I look up with joy, and see my sal va . 
tion drawing nigh, when the hearts of millions and millions f a ii 
for fear ? 

Now, Madam, lest my Meditations set in a cloud, and leave 
any unpleasing gloom upon your mind, let me once mor e turn 
to the brightening prospects of the righteous. A view of them, 
and their delightful expectations, may serve to exhilarate the 
thoughts, which have been musing upon melancholy subjects, 
and hovering about the edges of infernal darkness : Just as a 
spacious field, arrayed in cheerful green, relieves and re-invi- 
gorates the eye, which has fatigued itself by poring upon 
some minute, or gazing upon some glaring object. 

The righteous seem to lye by, in the bosom of the earth, as 
a wary pilot in some well-sheltered creek, till all the storms 
which infest this lower world, are blown over. Here they en- 
joy safe anchorage ; are in no danger of foundering amidst the 
waves of prevailing iniquity, or of being shipwrecked on the 
rocks of any powerful temptation. But, erelong, we shall be- 
hold them hoisting their flag of hope ! riding before a sweet 
gale of atoning merit, and redeeming love ; till they make, 
with all the sails of an assured faith, the blessed port of eter- 
nal life. 

Then may the honoured friend, to whom I am writing, 
rich in good works, rich in heavenly tempers, but inexpressibly 
richer in her Saviour's righteousness — O ! may she enter the 
harbour, like a gallant stately vessel, returned successful and 
victorious from some grand expedition, with acclamations, 
honour, and joy ! while my little bark, attendant on the so- 
lemnity, and a partaker of the triumph, glides humbly after ; 
and both rest together in the haven — the wish'd-for, blissful 
feaven, of perfect security, and everlasting repose. 



REFLECTIONS 



FLOWER-GARDEN. 



IN A LETTER TO A LADY, 



I look upon the pleasure, which we take in a garden, as one of the most innp 
cent delights in human life. A garden was the habitation of our first parent? 
before the fall. It is naturally apt to fill the mind with calmness and tranquil- 
lity, ajid to lay all its turbulent passions at rest. It gives us a great insight mtfi 
the contrivance and wisdom of Providence, and suggests innumerable subjects 
for meditation. Sped. vol. VII. No. 477. 



MADAM, 
SOME time ago, my meditations took a turn among the 
tombs. They visited the awful and melancholy mansions of 
the dead ;* and you was pleased to favour them with your at- 
tention.— May I not beg the honour of your company, in a 
more inviting and delightful excursion ! In a beautiful Flower- 
Garden, where I lately walked, and at once regaled the sense, 
and indulged the fancy. 

* '•' Discourses on the vanity of the creature, which represent the barrenness of 
,; every thing in this world, and its incapacity of producing any solid or substam 
" tial happiness, are useful.— Those speculations also, which shew the bright side. 
" of tilings, and lay forth those innocent entertainments, which are to be met with 
" among the several objects that encompass us, are no less 'beneficial," Spcct 
yol. V. No. 393. Upon the plan of these observations, the preceding and follow 
jug Reflections are formed- 

Vol. I. G 



ftE FLECTIONS 

It was early In a summer morning- — -hen the air was cuo'l, 
;lic earlh moist; the whole face of the creation fresh am 
The noisy world was scarce awake. Business had not quite 
shorn off his sound sleep, and riot had but just reclined his 
• head. All was serene-; all was still ; every thing- tend- 
inspire tranquillity of mind, and invite to serious 
Jit. 
Only the wakeful lark had left her nest, and was mounting 
on high to salute the opening day. Elevated in air, she seem- 
ed to call the laborious husbandman to his toil, and all her 
fellow-songsters to their notes. — Earliest of birds, said I, 
companion of the dawn, may I always rise at thy voice ! rise 
to otter the matin- song-, and adore that beneficent Being-, 
» maketh the out-goings of the morning- and evening to 
rejoice '' 

Hon- charming to rove abroad, at this sweet hour of prime'! 
'to enjoy the calm of nature, to tread the dewy lawns, and taste 
rVrfied freshness of the air ! 



Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, 
With charm of earliest birds.* 

What a pleasure do the sens of sloth lose ? Little, ah ! little 
is the sluggard sensible, how delicious an entertainment he 
foregoes, for the poorest of all animal gratification S;f 

The greyness of the dawn decays gradually. Abtmj 
of ruddy streaks tinge the fleeces of the firmament ; 'till at 
length, the dappled aspect of the east is lost, in one a 
and boundless blush. — Is it the surmise of imagination, or do 
the skies really redden with shame, to sec so many si 
stretched on their drnwzy pillows ? — Shall man be lost in 
luxurious e.;ise f shall man waste these precious hours in idle 
'slumbers/ while t-he-Aigorous sun is up, and' going his 

■ IT. Eesf, y. iv 

t See ! how revelation and reason, the scripture* and the claries, hnanimousty 
^xhort to thisSnost beneficial practice. They both inviti 
ngappng motives, and the most alluring 

ov- h-iov.-.!. Jet us nro forth 'into fhe fieW : It < 
i ly 10 the vineyards ; l< I 
'ender grape appear, and the pomegtauatei bud 

■) cum sidere. ')' 
C:ifpantn« : dum mane novui i. . 

• i-tjrati -aimus herba est.— T-- GSr W 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. To 

errand t while all the feathered choir are hymning- their 
Creator, and paying- their homage in harmony i — No. Let. 
him heighten the melody of the tuneful tribes, by adding- the 
nal strains of devotion. Let him improve Use fragrant 
c, by- mingling with the rising odours, the 
refineu breath of praise. 
It is natural for man to look upward :* to thj 
glance upon the objects that are above him. 



Straight toward' heaven my wor 
And g*az : d awhile the ample sky.y 



Prodigious'theatre ! where ii^htniags dart their fire, and 
thunders utter their voice ; where tempests spend their rage, 
and worlds unnumbered roll at large ! — O the greatness of that 
ndghty hand, which metedn out this amazing circumference 
with a span ! O the hrimensrty cf th?,t wonderful being, be- 
fore v.- 1. -dan a point ■ 
— And O (d the unsearchable r ; ches 
of that mercy, which rs g tea? tl an the heatens - if more 
enlarged and ©xten gracious exercise, than these 
illimitable tracts of air, and sea,, an j nrnfament ! which par- 
dons crimes of the most enormous size, and the most horrid 
aggravations; pardons them in eonsideratfon of -the Redeem- 
ers atonement, with perfect freeness, and the utmost readi- 
ness I more readily, if it were possible, than this aii-surroundu 
spanse admits, within its circuit, a ridge of mountains, 
or even a grain of sand.. 

Come hither, then, ye awakened, trembling- sinners. Comej 
and heavy laden With a sense of your iniquities. § Con- 
yourselves. Renounce all reliance oik any thing of your 
Let your i( trust b$ in, the tender mercy of God. for 



take leave to u 
t .more con?picu 



76 REFLECTIONS 

" In them hath he set a tabernacle for the sun."* —Behold him 
coming- forth from the chambers of the east. See ! the clouds, 
like floating curtains, are thrown back at his approach. With 
what refulgent majesty does he walk abroad ! Howtranscen- 
dently bright is his countenance, shedding day, and inexhaus- 
tible light, through the universe ! Is there a scene, though 
finished by the most elaborate and costly refinements of art, 
" comparable to these illustrious solemnity of opening sun- 
** shine ? Before these, all the studied pageantry of the thea- 
" tre, tlie glittering oeconomy of an assembly, or even the 
" heightened ornaments of a royal palace, hide their dimi- 
" nished heads, and shrinks into nothing." — I have read of a 
person so struck with the splendors of this noble luminary, 
that he imagined himself made on purpose to contemplate its 
glories. O ! that Christians would adopt his persuasion, and 
transfer it to the Sun of righteousness ! Thus applied, it 
would cease to be a chimerical notion, and become a most 
important truth. For sure I am, it is the supreme happiness 
of the eternal state, and therefore may well be the ruling 
concern of this present life, "to know the only true God, and 
Jesus Christ, whom he hath sent." — Nor do I stand alone in 
this opinion. The very best judge of whatever is valuable in 
science, or perfective of our nature ; a judge, who formed 
his taste on the maxims of paradise, and received the finish- 
ings of his education in the third heavens ; this judge deter- 
mines to "know nothing but Jesus Christ, and him crucified." 
He" possessed, in his own person, the finest, the most ad- 
mired accomplishments ; yet pronounces them no better than 



trnv thing more spirited and importunate ; more full of nature, or more fhi&hcd 
with life. 

Merer, good Lord, mercy I crave ; 

iinYis the total sum; 
Tor mercy. Lord, is all my suit; 

Loid let thy mercy coiue. 

pit sentence— not a single copulative— the frequent repetition of the dhine 
name— the almost incessant reiteration of the blessing, so passionately desired, and 
inexpressibly needed— thi; is the genuine language of ardour ; Uiese arc Uautics 
obvious to every eye; and cannot fail, either to please the judicious taste, or to 
edify the gracious heart, 

* Psa.L xix. 4. 



O-V A FLOWER-GARDEN. 77 

Hung, in comparison of the supereminent excellency of this 
knowledge,* 

. I discern a thousand admirable properties in the 
ainly, the best material emblem of the Crea- 
cor "1 utre is more of God in its lustre, energy and useful- 
ness, than m any other visible being-. To worship it as a deity, 
was the least inexcusable of all the Heathen idolatries. One 
scarce can wonder, that fallen reason should mistake so fair 
a copy lor the adorable original. No comparison, in the whole 
book of sacred wtsdonv, pleases me more, than that which re- 
sembles the blessed Jesus, to yonder regent of the day , j who 
now advances on hi , to scatter light, ahd dispense 

gladness, through the nations. 

at were all t but a dungeon of 

darkness, without the bet n ! All their fine scenes, 

hid from our view, lost in obseurity — In vain, we roll around 
our eves, m : • e strive to behold 

the features of am: ier we will, no form 

or comeliness appears - : ; an undis- 

tinguished chaos ; til ming hours'! ed the 

gates of light, and let i . . 

pect opens r The heavens are paved v fcre'wed 

with roses A variety of tlie In e 

The dowers put on a glov, of tin The whole 

creation stands forth, dre 
The ravished eye k 

And what had been the .' our int< 

without the great R 
Alas! what 
g&n siges form of G 

wearj 

jives in very v'ani y am peace and reconciHa'tioha * 

with their ofte Me A Jehovah '. till Jesus arose upon our be- 
d minds, and broiig immortality to light ; till 

he arose, to enlighten the wretched Gentiles, and to be the 
glory of his people Israel. 

Now we no longer cry out, with a restless impatience, 
Where is G td rn-y : we are allowed to contem- 

plate the brightness of his glory, and the express image of 
his person, in the face of Jesus Christ — Now we no k 



oi 


f 1 




uty 




1.1 


j at 


lire. 


r el 






. : — 


lit 


{ t 


he 


Pa- 




c 


hil< 


lish 



t*Urito you that. Fear my na$n0| shall «fae S 

healing in Jus wiBgs/* >ld. iv, 2. 

G2 



78 REFLECTIONS 

enquire, with an unsatisfied solicitude, " Which is the way 
*' to bliss ?" because Jesus lias marked the path, by his shin- 
ing example ; and left us an unerring clue, in his holy word. 
— Now we have no reason to proceed with misgiving hearts 
in our journey to eternity, or to ask anxiously, as we go, 
<{ Who will roll away the stone, and open the everlasting 
** doors ? Who will remove the flaming sword, and give us 
•* admission into the delights of Paradise r" For it is done, all 
done, by the Captain of our salvation. Sin he has expiated by 
the unblemished sacrifice of himself The law he has fulfilled, 
by his perfect obedience. The sinner he transforms, by his 
sanctifying Spirit — in a word, he hath both presented us with 
a clear discovery of good tilings to come, and administered to 
us" an abundant entrance into the final enjoyment of them. 

Whenever, -therefore, we bless God for the circling sea- 
sons, and revolving day, let us adore, thankfully adore him, 
for the more precious appearance of the Son of Righteousness, 
and his glorious gospel Without which, we should have been 
groping, even to this hour, in spiritual darkness, and the sha- 
dow of death. Without which, we must have wandered in a 
maze of inextricable uncertainties, and have " stumbled upon 
"the dark mountains" of error, till w;e fell into the bottomless 
pit of perdition. 

Without that grand enlivening principle, ' what were this 
earth, but a lifeless mass ? a rude lump of inactive matter ? 
The trees could never break forth into leaves, nor the plants 
spring up into flowers, we should no more behold the meadows 
mantled over with green, nor the valleys standing thick with 
eorn. Or, to speak in the beautiful language of a prophet, "No 
longer would the fig-tree blossom, nor fruit be in the vine : 
The labour of the olives would fail, and the fields could yield 
no meat : The flocks must be cut off from the fold, and there 
would be no herd in the stalls." *— The sun darts its beams 
fan on g all the vegetable tribes, and paints the spring, and en- 
riches the autumn. This pierces to the roots of the vineyard 
and the orchard, and sets afloat those fermenting juices, 
which at length burst into floods of.wme, br bend the boughs 
with a mellow-load. — Nor arc its favours confined to the up- 
per regions ; but distributed into the deepest recesses of crea- 
tion. It penetrates the beds of metal, and finds its way to the 
place of the sapphires. It tinctures the seeds of gold, that are 
'ipening into ore ; and throws a brilliancy into the water of 
the diamond, that is hardening on its rock.— In short, the he- 



! 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. ?9 

neficial agency of this magnificent luminary is inexpressible. 
It beautifies, and impregnates, universal nature, «* There is 
** nothing hid from the heat thereof*" 

Just in the same manner, were the rational world " dead 
in trespasses and sins,'' without the reviving- energy of Jesus 
Christ. He is " the^resurrecuon and the life ;" the overflowing 
fountain of the one, and ilie all-powerful cause of the other. 
The second Adam is a quickening Spirit, and ail his saints live 
through him. He shines upon their affections ; and they shoot 
forth into .heavenly graces, i nd abound in the fruits of righte- 
ousness. Faith unfeigned, and love undissembled, those no- 
blest productions of the renewed nature, are the effects of 
his operation on the maid. Not so much as one divine dispo- 
sition could spread itself, not one Christian habit unfold and. 
flourish, without the kindly influences of his grace. 

As there is no fruitfulness, so likewise no cheerfulness, 
without the sun.* — When that auspicious sovereign of the day 
diffuses the mildness of his morning splendor, he creates an 
universal festival. Millions of glittering insects awake into 
existence, and bask in his rays. The birds start from their 
slumbers, and pour their delighted souls in harmony. The 
flock, with bleating accents, hail the welcome blessings. 
The herds, in lowing murmurs, express their hoarser accla- 
mations. The valleys ring with rural music; the hills echo 
back the artless strains. All that is vocal, joins in the gene- 
ral choir; all that has breath, exults in the cheering influence, 
— Whereas, was that radiant orb extinguished, a tremendous 
gloom would ensue, and horror insupportable. Nay, let it 
only be eclipsed for a few minutes, and all nature assumes an 
•air of sadness. The heavens are wrapt in sables, and put on 
a kind of mourning. The most sprightly animals hang down 
their dejected heads. The songsters of the grove are struck 
dumb. Howling beasts roam abroad for prey, ominous birds 
come forth and screech ; the heart of man fails, or a sudden 
pang seizes the foreboding mind. — So when Christ hides 
away his face, when faith loses sight of that consolation of Is* 
-Tae!,Jtow gloomy are the prospects of the soul! Our God 
seems to be a consuming fire, and our sins cry loudly for ven- 
geance. The thoughts bleed inwardly; the Christian walks 



* The sun. which is as the great sou! of the universe, and produces all the 
• necessaries of life, has a particular influence in cheerinsr the mind of wi\u. sr.'< 
tpaldug the hcurt glad " Siect. roh v, Ivo. 387. 



Stf REFLECTION'S 

he'ayiir. All without is irksome ; --.11 within is disconsolate 



Lift up then. 



:•■ 






from on hi^li ! O lift up the lij lit at I .11 thy 

people4 reveal the i iencyj make 

clear oiir title to tills great ;cby impart 



What nothing earthly giv< 5, or can destroy, 

Tne soul's calm sun-sh ueart-felt joy.* 

In one instance more, let me pursue the similitude. The 
sun, I observe, pours his lustre all around, to every distance, 
and in every direction. Profusely liberal of bis gifts, be illu- 
minates :-nc\ cheers all the ends of the earth, and the whole 
compass of the skies. The east reddens with hi* rising radi- 
ance, and the western hills are gilded with bis streaming 
splendors. The chilly regions of the north are cherished by 
his genial warmth, while the southern tracts glow with (lis 
fire. — Thus are the influences of the Sun of righteousness dif- 
fusive and unconnned. 1 iie merits of his precious death ex- 
tended to the first, and will be propagated to the last ages of 
mankind — May they, ere lone - , visit Che remotest climates, 
and darkest corners of the earth ! Command thy gospel, bless- 
ed Jesus, thy everlasting gospel, to take the wings of the 
morning - , and travel with yonder sun. Let it fly upon strong 
pinions among- every people, nation^and language; that where 
the heat scorches, and the cold fit ezes., thou rnayest be known, 
ssed, and adored ! that strangers to thy name, and ene- 
mh s to th\ d oe; rine, may he enlightened with the know li 
and won to i!:e love of thy truth ! t> may that best of bras 
come! thai wished-fQV period advance, when "all the ends- 
of the world shall remember themselves, and be turned unto 
the Lord; and all the kinkfeds of the nations worship before 
him l"y 

From the heavens we retire to the earth — Here the drops 
of dew, like so many liquid chrystals.i sEparkle upon ti, 
How brilliant and unsullied is their lustre 1 How little inferior 
to the proud stone which irradiates a monarch's crown ! They 
want nothing but solidity and permanency, to equal them with 



11 tii eastern Plnti 

-.arth vikii orient pearl.- 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 81 

the finest treasures of the jeweller's casket — Bat here, in- 
deed, they are greitly deficient, short-lived ornaments, pos- 
sessed of little more then a momentary radiance. The sun, 
that lights them up, will soon melt them into air, or exhale 
them into vapours With hour, we may *« look for 

their place, and they shall be away." — O ! may every good 
resolution of mine, and of my flocks ; may our united breath- 
ing's after God, not be like these transient decorations of the 
morning 1 , but like the substantial glory of the growing- day ! 
The one shines more and mere with augmented splendors ; 
while the other, 1 lew moments, dis- 

appear and are loat. 

- How sensibly has this dew refreshed the vegetable king- 
doms ! The fervent patch- 
ed the face, and exhausted the swe_e s --hat a 
sovereigh restorative are these cooling- distillations of the 
night ! how they gladden and invigorate the languishing herbs ! 
Sprinkled with these reviving- drops, their verdure deepens ; 
their bloom is new flushed; their fragrance, faint or inter- 
mitted, becomes potent and copious. — Thus does the ever* 
1 Spirit revive the drooping troubled conscience of a 
When that almighty Comforter sheds his sweet in- 
fluence on the soul, displays the all-snhhcient sacrihee of a di- 
vine Redeemer, and " witnesses with our spirit, 5 ' that we are 
interested in the Saviour, and; by this means, are children of 
God ; then, what a pleasing change ensues ! Former anxieties 
are remembered no more. Every uneasy apprehensicnvanisb.es. 
Soothing hopes, and deli ghtful expectations, succeed. The 
countenance drops its dejected mien ; the eyes brighten with 
a lively cheerfulness ; while the lips express the he,art-feit sa- 
tisfaction, in the language of thanksg-iving, aiwi the voice of 
melody. — In this sense, merciful God, be as the dew unto Is- 
ael ! <; Pour upon them the continual dew of thy bles?d\g." 
And O ! let not my fleece be dry, while heavenly benediction 
descends upon all around. 

Who can number these pearly drops ? They hang on every 
hedge, they twinkle from every spray, and adorn the whole 
herbag-e of the field. Not a blade of grass, not a single leaf, 
but wears the watry pendants. So vast is the profusion, that 
it bahHes the arithmetician's art — Here let- the benevolent 
mind contemplate and admire that, emphatical scripture, which* 



62 REFLECTIONS 

from this elegant similitude, describes the increase of the- 
Messiah's kingdom al prophet, speaking of Christy 

and foretelling' th ji° n » has this reraai 

expression; ( * The deWoP- thy birth is of the womb of the 

rs.orr.ing-,"* (i. e ) As the morning is the mother of dews ;. 
produces them, as it were, from a prolific womb ; and scat- 
ters them, with the most lavished. abundance, over all the sur- 
face of the earth; so shall thy seed be, O thou 
father ! by the preaching of thy word, shall such an innume- 
rable race of regenerate children be born unto tb.ee. and prove 
an ornament and a blessing to all ages. Millions, millions ofi 



I'vil. ex. 3. Tli' )j./i t exact translation of this difficult j. 
pprehend; as follows; Prse ror£ uteri aurora, tibi est ■ ■ 

: The dew of thy birth is larger, more copious, than 
1. ••. fthioh^ioceeds {Vomthewdmhof tbemoniiiig^— Icannol 

n-ntw vi-i-iioii ; Lvca-.se that disjoins "the womb of the momi 
e dew of tiiy birth." Whereas, they seem to hai e a clear affinity, and 
>se connection. The womb of the morning is. with the inmost pertim n- 
lm; plied to the conception and production of dews ; agreeably to a <kii-. 
Bile, in that_great master of just description, and lively j aiming Mr. 
nison : 

The meek-eyed morn appears, mother of dews. [Suaniwr. 

•es: ion hi. the hook of Job. which may serve to. 
lustrate tin propriety oi i 
. a father, or ui,>> hath begotten the dri 
tal wntr.-rs ;!•■!". • .■• th<. iu v. as a 

X of tli'- momi) . . And ii'so. surelj tbere could 
. f the universe* better adapted to the 
wr mure strongly <iiiri:i1.cant-of those ondtitudi s of pro- 
■" borji. not ot Wood, nor of the %\ill of the flesh, nor 
, but of God;"-by the \>a\ . hij word and, 

supposition, the m hole verse 'describes 

f thv power,'' w ii. n tliv glorini.s 

ill. marvelous vfl-cacy.— in llial 
,i former oblatim 

lit in y. 

■ in< s." or l»:u\- professors: hut 

u .,i-,:h!, . thej 

even tin countless mj rj 



We i 


i this l 


ith a fine 

eniark ; Ui 


eiuiuec 


tion : 


" Hatii tht 


Lindof 


birth. 


""the "on 's* 


fee no i 


mage 


in the \ybti 



©ft A FLOWER-GARDEN, 83. 

"drilling 1 converts, from every nation under heaven, shall croud 
into thy family, and replenish thy church till they become like 
t-he stars of the sky, or the sands of the sea for multitude ; or 
fcren as numberless as these fine spangles, which now cover 
the face of nature—Behold then, ye obstinately wicked, 
though you i( are not gathered, yet will the Saviour be glori- 
'ou^." -ii< desigfn shall not miscarry, nor his labour prove 
yim render it of noire effect with regard to 
ik not, that Immanuel will want believers, 



the night, and issue from the vronib of 



B\ tlijs iur, r,)iv; ai;:'.i. the lest, I think, is cler.rrd of its obscurity; and 
appears both trek sublime, ami por&ctlj ju-i. 

Ma 3 1 be pardon**, the digression, and acquitted from presumption, if. on 
this occasion, I ta'si leave r,, :;:) : ; . ; dwriupo:, wh.it seems ha.- -U ;,<■■] u.ma- 

,uy. at bast, as 1 i.'.;-.\ _v< :■ .-! .'. • is. ,bat 

.;. ; ii.ri »hl,- ; altng* ther r : .,, ■■ ■ .,.''.,;■ :,.». tfcal 



tribulation and distress* 

The w-a.'er-nonds.rrub-ed. in the sn creel writings, often represent some im< 
.nim u, danger, or grievous iflbctio;.. But V>. u they arc l".! — - r a. . <:<> 
1 !;n. ihntthey keep 'within their !i; ;>ks. and glide qtikth by ft- •>•:•' rs 
rbotsti ps; so clear, that thev ar-_ lit ibi the w.r.il ring man's use, nd h rite 
his lips to a t.i-au:ylii 5 both whi ■:» motion sure j.mily implied in th- ; r.~ 
They are r.iiher-- boisterous biliovs ; bursting over a ship, or (last; i: ■•• Uiein- 
-X I . is. v iiii dreadful impetuosity, upon the shore : Or — sweeping iiutnda. 
ii-u . ; w hich hear down all before them, and drown the neighbouring : 01m- 
try.— Besides, in these' instances of horror, we bever find ihe bras. -He 
-hall drink ; V.hieh conveys a pi *asing idea (unless •when it rela. s to ,, cup 
tilled u ii h tJitieV. info\ic;uing, or empoisoned liquors ; a case quite different 
from that under consideration.) 

Vpon the whole, may not the passage more; properly allude to the influ- 
ence:- of theb-iiy Ghost? which wvre comnuimctit' (1. in immeasurable de- 
crees, to our gi\ at High-Priest ; and w. 1?. in c bct, t'.ie ;■■ use o Hs surmoun- 
'ititg all difficulties— these are l'hquemlv represi nied b\ waters ; '" Whoso- 
'- ; ,v'!>\v;h *:> me, cut of bis belly shah How rivers of living waters. -7 The 



84 REFLECTIONS 

or heaven inhabitants, because you continue incorrigible. No, 
the Lamb that was slain, will " see of the travail of his soul, 
and be satisfied ;" in a never-failing series of faithful people 
below, and an immense choir of glorified saints above, who 
shall form his retinue, and surround his throne, in shining and 
triumphant armies, such as no man can number. 

Here I was reminded of the various expedients which Pro- 
vidence, unsearchably wise, uses to fructify both the material 
and intellectual world. — Sometimes, you shall have impetuous 
and heavy showers, bursting from tjie angry clouds. T hey 
lash the plains, and make the rivers foam. A storm brings 
them, and a deluge follows them. — At other times, these 
gentle dews are formed, in the serene evening air. They steal 
down, by slow degrees, and with insensible stdlness ; so sub- 
tile, that they deceive the nicest eye ; so silent, that they 
escape the most delicate ear ; and, when fallen, so very light, 
that they neither bruise the tenderest, nor oppress the weakest 
flower. — Very different operations ! yet each concurs in the 
same beneficial end, and both impart fertility to the lap of 
nature. 

So, some persons have I known reclaimed from the unfruit- 
ful works of darkness, by violent and severe means. The Al- 
mighty addressed their stubborn hearts, as he addressed the 
Israelites at Sinai, with lightning in his eyes, and thunder in 
his voice. The conscience, smit with a sense of guilt, and 
apprehensive of eternal vengeance, trembled through all her 
powers, just as that strong mountain tottered to its centre. 
Pangs of remorse, and agonies of fear, preceded their new 
birth. They- were reduced to the last extremities, almost 

enjoyment of" them is described by drinking ; " He that drinketh of the wa- 
ter that I shall give him, shall never thirst."— Then the sense may run in 
this wi 11-cor.nected and perspicuous manner. Is it asked. How shall the Re- 
deemer be able to execute the various and important offices foretold in the 
preceding parts of the psalm? The prophet replies, " He sliall drink of the 
brook in the way." He shall not be left barely to Ms human nature, 
•which must unavoidably sink under the tremendous work of recovering a 
lost world ; but, through the -whole course of bis incarnate state, through 
the whole* 'administration of bis mediatorial kingdom, shall be supported 
with omnipotent succours. He shall drink at the brook of almighty po\\ er, 
and travel on in the greatness of an uncreated strength.—" Tberefb)\ shall 
he lift up his bead." By this means, shall be be equal to the prodi- 
gious task, and superior to all opposition. By this means, shall he be tho- 
roughly successful in whatever he undertakes; and greatly triumphant 
our all his enei 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. $5 

overwhelmed with despair, before they found rest in Jesus 
Christ. Others have been recovered from a vain conversa- 
tion, bv methods more mild and attractive. The Father of 
spirits' applied himself to their teachable minds, m "a still 
and small voice." His grace came down, as the rain into a 
fleece of wool, or as these softening- drops, which now water 
the earth. The kingdom of God took place in their souls, 
without noise or observation. They passed from death unto 
life, from a carnal to a regenerate state, by almost impercep- 
tible advances. The transition resembled the growth of corn ; 
was very visible, when effected, though scarce sensible, 
while accomplishing — O thou Author and Finisher of our 
faith, recal us from our wandering's, and re-unite us to thy- 
self! Whether thou alarm us with thy terrors, or allure us 
with thy smiles ; whether thou drive us with the scourge of 
conviction, or draw us with the cords of love ; let us, in kny 
wise, return to thee : for thou art our supreme good; thou 
art our only happiness. 

Before I proceed farther, let me ascend the terrace, and 
take one survey of the' neighbouring country. — What a pros- 
pect rushes upon my sight ! How vast, how various, how 
" full and plenteous with all manner of store !" Nature's whole 
wealth! — What a rich and inexhaustible magazine is here, 
furnishing subsistence for every creature ! Methinks I read, 
in these spacious volumes, a most lively comment upon that 
noble celebration of the divine beneficence ; " He openetKTiis 
hand, and fiileth all things living with plenteousness." 

These are thy glorious works, Parent of good, 

Almighty ' Thine this universal frame, 

Thus wond'rous fair ! thyself how wond'rous then! 

MlLTO -s\ 

The fields are covered deep, and stand thick, with corn. 
They expand the milky grain to (he sun ; while the gales, 
now inclining', now raising each flexile stem, open all their 
ranks to the agency of his beams; which will soon impart a 
firm consistence to the grain, and a glossy golden hue to the 
ear, that they may be qualified to fill the barns of the husband- 
man, with plenty, and his heart with gladness. 

Yonder lie ^he meadows, smoothed into a perfect level ; 
decorated with an embroidery of the gayest flowers, and load- 
ed with spontaneous crops* of herbage ; which, converted in- 

* . Iniussa vbescunt 

Gramina Vifg, 

Vol. I. H 



86 REFLECTIONS 

to hay, will prove a most commodious provision for the bar- 
renness of winter ; will supply with fodder our serviceable ani- 
mals, when all the verdure of the plain is killed by frosts, or 
buried in snows. — A winding stream glides along the flowery 
margin, and receives the image of the bending skies, and wa- 
ters the roots of many a branching willow. It is stocked, no 
doubt, with variety of fish, which afford a solitary diversion 
to the angler, and furnish for his table a delicious treat. Nor 
is it the only merit of this liquid element, to maintain the fin- 
ny nations ; it also carries cleanliness, and dispenses fruitful- 
hess, wherever it rolls the crystal current. 

The pastures, with their verdant mounds, chequerthe pros- 
pect, and prepare a standing repast for our cattle. There 
'.'. our oxen are made strong to labour, and our sheep bring 
forth thousands and ten thousands." There the horses ac- 
quire vigour for the dispatch of our business, and speed to 
expedite our journeys. From thence the kine bring home 
their udders, distended with one of the richest and healthiest 
liquors in the world. 

On several spots, a grove of trees, like some grand colon- 
nade, erects its towering head. Everyone projects a friendly 
shade for the beasts, and creates a hospitable lodging for the 
birds. Every one stands ready, to furnish timber for a palace, 
masts for a navy, or, with a more condescending* courtesy, 
fuel for our hearths. — One of them seems skirted with a wild 
uncultivated heath ; which, like well disposed shades in paint- 
ing, throws an additional lustre on the more.ornamented parts 
of the landscape. Nor is it usefulness, like that of a foil, rela- 
tive only, but real. There several valuable creatures are pro- 
duced, and accommodated, without any expence or care of 
ours. There, likewise, spring abundance of those herbs, 
which assuage the smart of our wounds, and allay the fiery 
tumults of the fever; which impart floridity to our circulating 
fluids, add a more vigorous tone to our active solids, and there- 
by, repair the decays of our enfeebled constitutions. 

Nearer the houses, we perceive an ample spread of branches, 
not so stately as the oaks, but more amiable for their annual 
services, A little while ago, I beheld them ; and all was one 
beauteous, boundless waste of blossoms. The eye marvelled 
at the lovely sight, and the heart rejoiced in the prospect of 
autumnal plenty. But now the blooming maid is resigned for 
the useful matron. The flower is fallen, and the fruit swells 
out on every twig.— Breathe soft, ye winds ! O spare the ten- 
der fruitage, ye surly blasts ! Let the pear-tree suckle her 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 87 

juicy progeny, till they drop into our hands, and dissolve in 
our mouths. Let the plum hang- unmolested upon her boughs, 
till she fatten her delicious flesh, and cloud her polished skin 
with blue. And as for the apples, that staple commodity of 
our orchards, let no injurious shocks precipitate them imnia- 
turely to the ground ; till revolving- suns have tinged them 
with a ruddy complexion, and concocted them into an exqui- 
vour. Then, what copious hoards, of what burnished 
rinds, and what delightful relishes, will replenish the store- 
room ! Some, to present us with an early entertainment, and 
refresh our palates amidst the sultry heats. Some, to bor- 
row ripeness from the falling snows, and carry autumn into 
the .depths of winter. Some, to adorn the salver, make a part 
of the dessert, and give an agreeable close to our feasts;* 
Other*, to fill our vats with a foaming flood, which, mellow- 
ed by age, may sparkle in *he glass, with a liveliness and de- 
licacy little inferior to the blood of the grape. 

I observe several small inclosures, which seem to he appre- 
hensive of some hostile visit from the North ; and, therefore, 
are defended on that quarter, by a thick wood, or a lofty wall. 
At the same time, they cultivate an uninterrupted correspond- 
ence with the south, and throw opon their whole dimensions 
to its friendly warmth. One, in particular, lies within the 
reach of a distinguishing view, and proves to be a kitchen- 
garden. It looks, methinks, like a pJain and frugal republic. 
Whatever may resemble the pomp of courts, or the ensigns of 
royalty, is banishtd from this humble community. None of 
the productions of the olitory affect finery, but all are habited 
with the very perfection of decency. Here those celebrated 
qualities are eminently united, the utmost simplicity with the 
exactest neatness f — A skilful hand has percelled out the 
whole ground, in narrow beds, and intervening alleys. The 
same discreet management has assigned to each verdant fa- 
milv, a peculiar and destine t abode. So that there is no con- 
fusion, amidst the greatest multiplicity ; because every indi- 
vidual knows its proper home, and all the tribes are ranged 
with perfect regularity — If it be pleasing to behold their or- 
derly situation, and their modest beauties; how much more 
delightful, to consider the advantages they yield ! What a fund 
of choice accommodations is here ! what a source of whole- 
some dainties ! and all, for the enjoyment of man. Why does 

* Ab ovo 

Usque ad mala— — Hor. 

■f Sboplex imttLsTrtiiA— — K&r', 



88 REFLECTIONS 

the parsley, with her frizzled locks, shag- the border ; or why 
the celery, with her whitening arms perforate the mold, but 
to render his soups savoury ? The asparagus shoots its taper- 
ing 1 stems, to offer him the first lruits of the season ; and the 
artichoke spreads its turgid top, to give him a treat of vege- 
table marrow. The tendrils of the cucumber creep into the 
sun ;* and, though bask.ng in its hottest rays, they secrete for 
their master, and barrel up for his use, the most cooling juices > 
of the soil. The beans stand firm, like files of embattled 
troops ; the peas rest upon their props, like so many compa- 
nies of invalids ; while both replenish their pods with the fat- 
ness of the earth, on purpose to pour it on their owner's ta- 
ble. — Not one species, among all this variety of herbs, is a 
cumberer of the ground. Not a single plant, but is good for 
food, or some way salutary. With so beneficent an oeconomy, 
are the several periods of their ministration settled, that no 
portion of the year is left destitute of nourishing esculents. 
What is still more obliging, every portion of the year affords 
such esculents, as are best suited to the temperature of the 
air, and the state of our bodies. — Why then should the posses- 
sor of so valuable a spot envy the condition of kings ? \ since 
he may daily walk amidst rows of peaceable and obsequious, 
though mute subjects : every one of which tenders him some 
agreeable present, and pays him a willing tribute ; such as is 
most happily adapted, both to supply his wants and to regale 
his taste ; to furnish him, at once, with plenty and with plea- 
sure. 

* Virgil, with great conciseness^ and equal propriety, describes the cn» 
cumber—— 

— Tortusque per hevbam 

Cresceret in ventrera cucumis. Ceorg. IV. , 

Milton has (if we admit Dr. Bentley's alteration, which is, I think, in this 
place, unquestionably just) almost translated the Latin poet, 

- — Forth crept 

The swelling gourd— 

Par. Lost. b. VII. 1. 320. 

t Kic rarum tamen in dumis olus, albaque cireum 
Lilia, verbenasque premens, vtscumque papaver, 
Hegum ?equabat opes animis : seruque revertens 
Hocte domum, dapibus mensas onerabat iaemptis. 

Fir. Gcorg, IV 



ON A FLOWER GARDEN. S9 

At a distance, one descries the "mighty hills. — They heave 
their huge ridges among- the clouds ; and look like the bar- 
riers of kingdoms, or the boundaries of nature. Bare and de- 
formed as their surface may appear, their bowels are fraught 
with inward treasures ! treasures lodged last in the quarries, 
or sunk deep in the mines. From thence, industry may draw ■ 
her implements, to plough the sod, to reap the grain, and pro- 
cure every necessary convenience. From thence, art may 
fetch her materials, to rear the dome, to swell the organ, and 
form the noblest ornaments of politer life: 

On another side, the great deep terminates the view. There 
go the ships ; there is that Leviathan ; and there, in that 
world of waters, an inconceivable number of animals have their 
habitation. — This is the capacious cistern of the universe, 
which admits, as into a receptacle, and distributes, as from a 
reservior, whatever waters the whole globe. There is not a 
fountain that gushes in the unfrequented desert, nor a rivulet 
that flows in the remotest continent, nor a cloud that swim's in 
the highest regions of the firmament, but is fed by this all-re- 
plenishing source — The ocean is the grand vehicle of trade, 
and the uniter of distant nations To us it is peculiarly kind, 
not only as it wafts into our ports the harvest of every climate, 
and renders our island the centre of traffic, but also as it se- 
cures us from foreign invasions, by a sort of impregnable en- 
trenchment* 

Me thinks, the view of this profuse munificence inspires a se- 
cret delight, and kindles a disinterested good will — While the 
" little hills clap their hands," and the luxuriant " valleys 
laugh and sing," who can forbear catching the general joy? 
who is not touched with lively sensations of pleasure ?— -While 

* Whose rampart was the sea, Nahum Li. 8. 

I hope, this little excursion into the country. will not he looked upon 
as a departure from my subject ; because a rural view, though no essential 
part of a garden, is jet a desirable appendage, and necessary to complete 
its beaut}-. As usefulness is the most valuable property which can attend 
any production, tliis is the circumstance chiefly touched upon in the sur- 
rey of the landscape Though every piece of this extensive and diversi- 
fied scene is cast in the most elegant mould, yet nothing is calculated 
merely for show and parade. You see nothing formed in the taste of th.j 
ostentatious obelisk, or insignificant pomp of the pyramid. No such idle 
expences were admitted into that consummate plan, which regulated the 
structure of the universe. All the decorations of nature are no less advan- 
tageous than ornamental; such as speak the Maker infinitely beneficent, 
as well as incomparably magnificent. 

II 2 



90 REFLECTIONS 

the everlasting Father is scattering blessings through his whole 
family, unci crowning the year with his. goodness, who'd* 
feei his breast overflowing with adiiius,\e benevolence ? — My 
heuit, I must confess, beats high with satisfaction, and 
breathes out congratulatory wishes, upon all the tenants of 
these rural abodes : " Peace be within your walls, as well as 
plenteousness around your dwellings." Live, ye highly fa- 
voured, live sensible of your benehts, and thankful to your 
benelactor Look round upon these prodigiously large in- 
comes of the fruitful soil, and call the«r. (for you have free 
leave) all \our own. — Only let me remind you of one very im- 
portant truth. Let me suggest, and may you never forget, 
you r.;t obliged to Jesus Christ, foreveryone of these accom- 
mwdatiorts, which spring from the teeming earth, and the 
smiling sk:es. 

1. Cnristmade them,* when they were not. — He fetched 
them up from utter darkness, and gave them both their being, 
and their beauty. Hp created the materials of which they 
are composed, and moulded them into this endless multipli- 
city of amiable forms, and useful substances He arrayed 
the heavens with a vesture of the mildest blue, and clothed 
the earth in a livery of the gayest green. His pencil streak- 
ed, and his breath perfumed, whatever is beautiful or fragrant 

* When I ascribe the work of creation to the Son. I v ould by no means 
be supposed to -withhold the same honour from the eternal Father and 
ever-blessed Spirit. The acts of those inconceivably glorious persons, are, 
like their essenc*-, undivided and one, but 1 chuse to suite the point in this 
tnanm-r, Because this > the manifest, doctrine of the New-Testament, is the 
express belief of our i hurcli, and a nv -.t noble peculiarity of th 
relation. — I chusc it ,.i>o,b< cause f would take every opportunity <-f ineulea- 
ting, and celebrating tue divinity of the Redeemer: A truth, which impart* 
an unutterable dignity to Christianity ; a truth, which lays an immoveable 
foundation for all the comfortabk hopes of a Christian; a truth, which 
■will Fender the mystery of our redemption the wonder and delight ofi 
taty ; and with this truth, every one will observe, my assertion is insepa- 
rably connected. 

If any one questions, whether this be the doctrine of our church ? let the 
ereed, which we repeat in our most solemn devotions, determine his doubt : 
" I believe," says that term of sound words " in one Lord Jesus Christ 
Godol very God, by whom all things were made.'"— If it be drtht r enquir- 
ed, ion A fcence the Nicene fathers derived this article of their faith ? 1 an- 
swer, From the Writings of the beloved disciple, who lay on the Sa\i 
bosom ; and of Uiat givat ajwstle. who had been caught Up into the third 
heaven. John i. 3. Colossvi. 16. 



. ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 

in the universe. His strength set fast the mountains.; his good- 
ness garnished tiie vales ; and the same touch which healed 
the leper, wrought tne whole visible system into this com- 
plete perfection. 

2. Christ recovered them, when they were forfeited. — Bv 
Adam's sin, we lost our right to the comforts of life, and 
fruits of the ground. His d-subedience was the most impi- 
ous and horrid treason against the King of kings. Conse- 
quently his whole patrimony became confiscated; as wei. the 
portion of temporal good things, settled upon the human race 
during" their minority as that everlasting heritage reserved 
for their enjoyment, when they should come to full age. ^But 
the ".seed u! the woman," instantly interposing, took off the 

der, and redeemed the alienated inheritance. — The first 
Adam being disinherited, the second Adam was appointed 
heir of all things, visible as well as invisible.* And w r e hold 
our possession of the former ; we expect an instatement in 
the latter, purely by virtue of our alliance to him, and our 
union with him 

3. Christ upholds them, which would otherwise tumble into 
ruin. — By him, says the oracle of inspiration, all tilings con- 
sist j- tiis finger roils the seasons round, and presides over 
all the celestial revolutions; Ids finger winds up the wheels, 
and impels every -> ring, of vegetative nature. In a word, the 

weight of the creution rests upon his mighty arm, and 
receives the whole harmony of its motion from his unerring 
eye — This habitable globe, with all its rich appendages, and 

* Heb. i. ?.— In this sense at least Christ is the Saviour of all men. The for- 
mer and latter rain ; tfct precious fruits of the earth: food to eat. and 
raiment to put on ;— all these he purchased, even for hi> irreclaimable ene- 
mies. They eat of his bread, who Lr't u^ th-rir Led against him. 

We learn from hence, in what a peeu iar and em' . Chris- 

tian is to contemplate the things that are seen. Heal scorer 

an eternal power, and iimiihv wisdom, in the structure of the universe : 
Hca ---.us liberal::.} . in the unreser- 

irnitnre, to the service of man. 
J3nt the Christian should evt his forfeiture of them, and the 

pric paid to redeem .. I receive the rifts of indulc^r.t Pre- 

via, nee, as the Israelites received iLeir law from the hand of a Mediator. Or 
i . to him they should come, not only issuing from the stores of an un- 
hdunded bounty, but sv.immiii* (as It were) inthat eriiasoa ride, w] 
uaedfroxa Inimannel's veins. 



.REFLECTIONS 

fine machinery, could no more continue, than they coukl 
create themselves. Mart they would into instant confusion, 
ov drop into their primitive nothing-, did not his power sup- 
port, and Ins wisdom regulate them, every moment. In con- 
formiw to his will, they subsist stedfastand invariable in their 
orders, and wait only for his sovereign nod, to " fall away like 
" water that runneth apace." 

4 Christ actuates them,* which would otherwise be life- 
less and insignificant. — Pensioners they are, constant pension- 
ers on his bounty, and borrow their all from his fulness. He 
only lias life ; and whatever operates, operates b) an emana- 
tion from his all-sufficiency Does the grape refresh you with 
its enlivening juices ! It is by a warrant received and virtue 
derived, from the Redeemer. Does bread strengthen your 
heart, and prove the stall' of your life ? Remember, that it is 
by the Saviour's appointment, and through the efficacy of his 
operation. You are charmed with his melody, when the 
*' time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the 
nightingale is heard in your "land" You taste his goodness 
in the luscious hg, the melting peach, and the musky flavour 
of the apricot. You smell his sweetness in the opening honey- 
suckle, and every odoriferous shrub. 

Coukl these creatures speak for themselves, they would, 
doubtless, disclaim all sufficiency of their own, and ascribe 
the whole honour to their Maker. — " We are servants," 
world they say, " of him, who died for you. Cisterns, only 
" dry cisterns in ourselves, we transmit to mortals no more 
" t) an the uncreated fountain transfuses into us. Think not, 
" tlTat, from any ability of our own, we furnish you with as- 
" sistar.ee, or administer to your comfort. It is the divine 
"energy, the divine energy alone, that works in us, and 
" does you good— We serve you, O ye sons of men, that you 
" may love bim who placed us in these stations. O ! love the 
" Lord, therefore, all ye who are supported by our ministry, 
" or else we shall groan,f with indignation and regret, at your 
" abuse of our services.— Use us, and welcome ; for we are 
" yours, If ye are Christ's. Crop our choicest beauties ; rifle 

* John v. 17. " My Father worketh hitherto, ami I work ;" or. I exert 
ffiat unremitting and unwearied energy, which is the life of the creation. 
— Thus the words are paraphrased by a masterly expositor, who has illustra- 
ted the life of our LI; ssed Lord in the most elegant taste of criticism, with 
the most amiable spirit of devotion ; and -without any mixture of the ma- 
ant spleen, or low singularities of a patty. See the Family Expoeitor. 

t Rom. viii, 22 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 93 

nr treasures ; accommodate yourselves with our most 
" valuable qualities ; only let us be incentives to your grati- 
'*' tude, ami motives to your obedience." 

Having surveyed the spacious sky, and sent a glance round 
the interior creation, it is time to descend from this eminence, 
and confine my attention to the beautiful spot below. — Here 
Nature, always pleasing-, every where lovely, appears with 
peculiar attractions. Yonder, she seems dressed in her dis- 
•, grand, but irregular. Here, she calls in her hand- 
maid, Art, and shines in all the delicate ornaments which 
the nicest cultivation is able to convey. Those are her com- 
mon apartments, where she Midges her ordinary guests ; this 
is her cabinet of curiosities, where she entertains her intimate 
acq lainlance — My e\ es shall often expatiate over those scenes 
of universal fertility ; ray feet shall sometimes brush through 
the thicket, or traverse the lawn, or stroll along the -forest 
glade ; but to this delightful retreat, shall be my chief resort. 
Thither will I make excursions, but here will I dwell. 

If, from my low procedure, I may form an allusion to the 
most exalted practices, I would observe, upon this occasion, 
that the celebrated Erasmus, and our judicious Locke, having 1 
trod the circle of the sciences, and ranged through the whole 
extent of human literature, at length betook themselves solely 
to the Bible. Leaving- the sag'es of antiquity, they sat inces- 
santly at the feet of Jesus. Wisely they withdrew from that 
immense multiplicity of learning-; from those endless tracts 
of amusing erudition, where noxious weeds are mixed with 
wholesome herbs ; where is generally a much larger growth 
of prickly shrubs, than of fruitful boughs. They spent their 
most mature hours in those fallowed gardens, which God's 
own wisdom planted; which God's own Spirit watSacth, and 
ill which God's own Sea is continually walking- ; where he 
meeteth those that seek him, and revealeth to them the glo- 
ries of his person, and the riches of his goodness 

Thus would I finish the remainder of my days ! Having 
just tasted (what they call) the politer studies. 1 would now 
devote my whole application to the lively oracles. From 
other pursuits I might glean, perhaps, a few scattered frag T 
ments of lofc, o* lean, of unsatisfactory instruction. Fronr* 
this I trust to reap a harvest of the sublimest truths ; the no- 
blest improvements, and the purest Joys.* — Waft me then, 
O ! waft my mind to Sinn's consecrated bowers. Let my 

* Quicquid docetur, veiitas ; quiequid precipitin-, konit?,s ; o 
pvoButticur, fetieitast 



94 REFLECTIONS 

thoughts pei'petually rove through the awfully pleasing walks 
ofin.spii-al.ion. Mere grow those heaven-born plants, the trees 
of life and knowledge, whose ambrosial fruit's we now- may 
*' take, and eat, and live for ever." Here flow those precious 
streams of grace and righteousness, whose living waters 
" whosoever drinks, shall thirst no more." And what can 
the fables of Grecian song, or the finest pages of Roman elo- 
quence, — what can they exhibit, in any degree, comparable 
to these matchless prerogatives of revelation ? — 'therefore, 
though I should not dislike to pay a v-sit now and then to my 
Heathen masters, I would live with the prophets andapo- Jes. 
With those I would carry on sonfe occasional correspondence ; 
but these should b. j my bosom friends ; my inseparable com- 
panions ; " my delight, and my counsellors." 

What sweets are these, which so agreeably salute my nos- 
trils ? They are the breath of the flowers ? the incense of the 
garden, — How liberally does the jessamine dispense her odo- 
riferous riches? How deliciously has the woodbine embalmed, 
this morning-walk ? The air is all perfume. — And is not this 
another most engaging argument, to forsake the bedof sloth ? 
Who would lie dissolved in senseless slumbers, while so ma- 
ny breathing sweets invite him to a feast of fragrancy ? espe- 
cially considering, that the advancing day will exhale the vo- 
latile dainties. A fugitive treat they are, prepared only for 
the wakeful and industrious : Whereas, when the sluggard 
lifts his heavy eyes, the flowers will droop ; their fine scents 
be dissipated ; and instead of this refreshing humidity, the 
* air will become a kind of liquid fire. 

With this very motive, heightened by a representation of 
the most charming pieces of morning scenery, the parent of 
mankind awakes his lovely consort. There is such a delicacy 
in the choice, and so much life in the description, of these 
rural images, that I cannot excuse myself, without repeating 
the whole passage — Whisper it, some friendly genius, in the 
ear of every one, who is now sunk in sleep, and lost to all 
these refined gratifications ! 

Awake : the morning shines, and the fresh field 
Calls you : ye lose the prime, to mark ! >w spring 
The tended plants, how blows the citron grove ; 
What drons the myrrh, and what the balmy reed; 
How Nature paints her colours ; how the bee 
Sits on the bloom, extracting liquid sweets.* 

* Milt. Par. Last, b. v. Ha. 20. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 95 

How delightful is this fragrance! It is distributed 'in the 
nice^L proportion ; neither so strong as to oppress the organs, 
nor so faint a> to elude them. We are soon cloyed at a sump- 
tuous banquet, but this pleasure never loses its poignancy, 
never palls the appetite. — Here, luxury itself is innocent; or 
rather, in this case, indulgence is incapable of excess. This 
balmy entertainment, not only regales the sense, but cheers 
the very soul; * and instead of clogging, elates its powers. — 
It puts me in mind of that ever memorable sacrifice, which, 
was once made in behalf of offending mortals. I mean the 
sacrifice of the blessed Jesus ; when he offered up himself to 
God, "for a sweet-smelling sa our." Such the Holy Spirit 
styles that wonderful oblation, as if no image, in the whole sen- 
sible creation, was so proper to give us an idea of the ineffa- 
ble satisfaction, which the Father of mercies conceived, from 
that unparralleled atonement; as the pleasing sensations which 
such rich perfumes are capable of raising. " Thousands of 
rams, and ten thousands of rivers of oil," from an apostate 
world, the most submissive acknowledgments added to the 
most costly offerings, from men of defiled hands, and unclean 
lips, what could they have effected? A prophet represents the 
" High and iofty One, that inhabiteth eternity," turning him- 
self away from such filthy rags ; turning* himself away, with 
a disdainful abhorrence, f as from the noisome streams of a 
dunghill. — But in Christ's immaculate holiness, in Christ's 
consummate obedience, in Christ's most precious blood-shed- 
ding, with what unimaginable complacency does justice 
rest satisfied, and vengeance acquiesce! — A.11 thy works, O 
thou surety for ruined sinners ! all thy sufferings, O thou 
slaughtered Lamb of God ! as well as all thy garments, O 
thou bridegroom of thy church [ smell of myrrh, aloes, and 
cassia ! ± They are infinitely more grateful to the eternal god- 
head, than the choicest exhalations of the garden, than alk 
the odours of the spicy east, can be to the human nostrils. 

As the altar of old sanctified the gift ; so this is the great 
propitiation, which recommends the obnoxious person- ind 
unprofitable services of the believing world In this, may my 
sou] be interested! by this, may it be reconciled to the Fa- 
ther ! — There is such a leprous depravity cleaving to my hft- 

* " Ointment auil perfume rejoice the heart." Prov. xxvii. 9. 
t ATOOST. 21, 23L % P»al. xlf. S. 



96 REFLECTIONS 

ture, as pollutes whatever I perform. My most profound, 
adorations, and sincerest acts of religion, must not presume 
to challenge a reward, but humbly implore forgiveness * Re- 
nouncing, therefore myself in every instance of duty, dis- 
claiming all shadow of confidence in any deeds of my own, 
may I now, and evermore, be accepted through the Beloved !f 
What colours, what charming colours, are here ! these, so 
nobly bold, — and these, so delicately languid. What a glow 
is enkindled in some ! what a gloss shines upon others J In one, 
methinks, I see the ruby with her bleeding radiance; in an- 
other, the sapphire with her sky-tinctured blue ; in all, such 
an exquisite richness of dyes, as no other set of paintings in 
the universe can boast $ — With what a masterly skill, is every 
one of the varying tints disposed ! Here they seem— to be 
thrown on w r itli an easy dash of security and freedom; there 
they are adjusted by the nicest touches of art and accuracy. 
Those which form the ground, are always so judiciously 

* A writer of distinguished superiority, thus addresses the Great Observer 
•factions. i\y.il se:ii'( !:. r .V lir-arts; and vindicates my sentiments, while lie so 
justly and beautifully utters "his own: 

I-ook do-\v n. great God ! with pity's softest eye, 
On a poor bi\ athing pan icle in dust. 
His Clings orgive ; forgive his virtues too. 
Those smaller faults half converts to the right. 

hV^ht-Thoug/tis, No. IX. 

t See page 44 and 45. in the second edition of a most candid a?td evai 
oal little treatise, called, Christianity the great Ornament of Human I 
-i I!'Ciin.ii.u;s'h:;p l .ih a ,(.id t]i t - dangerous extreine,and too often fatal rock, 
•• i>< a dead 'riiitless l.i'!: on ihe one hand. lit [i. e. Satan) will i 
*■ all kind ofplauslble insinuations, to split them on tin- opposite, vi/. ;j irl- 
"urnl pride, ostentation, aid dependence on the ir wcrks. as if'tl 
" meritorious or procuring cause of all tru.- . . and 

- 1 divine acceptance. — Now, tJ.is sel.'-drpendenee n ay !»e ran 1 . 
li mo a dangerous of the infernal politics, because the fatal poison Lies deep. 
•• and too often undiscerned/' 



t "Who can paint, 

Like Nature ? Can Imagmation boast, 

Amid his gay creation, lines like th« *• ? 

And can be mix them with tlmt matchh ss skill, 

And lay diem <■;•. so delicately fine, 

And lose them in t ach other a- appears 

! n ev'ry bud that Wows . 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. % 

chosen, as to heighten the lustre of the superadded figures, 
while the verdure of the impalement, or the shadings of the 
foliage, impart new liveliness to the whole. Indeed whether 
they are blended or arranged, softened or contrasted, they 
are manifestly under the conduct of a taste that never mis- 
takes, a felicity that never falls short of, the very perfection 
of elegance. — Fine, inimitably fine, is the texture of the web, 
on which these shining treasures are displayed. What are 
the labours of the Persian looms, or the boasted commodities 
of Brussels, compared with these curious manufactures of 
nature ? Compared with these, the most admired chintzes lose 
their reputation ; even superfine cambrics appear coarse as 
canvas in their presence. 

What a cheering argument does our Saviour derive from 
hence, to strengthen our affiance in God ! He directs us to 
learn a lesson of heaven depending faith, from every bird that 
wings the air, and from every flower that blossoms in the 
field. If providence, with unremitted care, supports those 
inferior creatures, and arrays these insensible beings with so 
much splendor ; surely he will in no wise withhold, from his 
elect children, " bread to eat, and raiment to put on." — Ye 
faithful followers of the Lamb, dismiss every low anxiety, 
relating to the needful sustenance of life. He that feeds the 
ravens, from an inexhaustible magazine ; he that paints the 
plants, with such surpassing elegance ; in short, he that pro- 
vides so liberally, both for the animal and vegetable parts of 
his creation; will not, cannot neglect his own people. — " Fear 
not little flock," ye peculiar objects of almighty love ! « it is 
your Father's g*ood pleasure to give you a kingdom."* And, if 
he freely gives you an everlasting kingdom hereafter, is it pos- 
sible to suppose, that he will deny you any necessary conve- 
niencies here ? 

One cannot forbear reflecting, in this place, on the too pre- 
vailing humour of being fond and ostentatious of dress f What 
an abject and mistaken ambition is this ! how unworthy the 

* Luke xii. 32, 

t Mr. Addison has a fine remark on a female warrior, celebrated bv Virgil. 
He observes, that, with all her other great qualities, this little foible mingled 
itself; because, as the poet relates, an intemperate fondness for a rich and 
splendid suit of armour, betrayed her into ruin. In this circumstance, our 
critic discovers a moral concealed : this he admires, as a neat, though ob= 
lio t ue satire, on that trifling passion. Sped. vol. i. No. 15. 

I would refer it to the judicious reader, whether there is not a beauty of 
the same kind, but touched with a more masterlv hand, in the song of Debe- 
vah.— Speaking of Sisera's mother, the sacred eucharistie ede repre?eBt* 
Vol. I. I 



98 REFLECTIONS 

dignity of immortal, and the wisdom of rational beings ! espe- 
cially since these little productions of the earth have indispu- 
tably the pre-eminence in such outward embellishments. — 
Go, clothe thyself with purple, and fine linen ; trick thyself up 
in all the gay attire, which the shuttle or the needle can fur- 
nish : yet know, to the mortification of thy vanity, that the 
native elegance of a common daizy* eclipses all this elabo- 
rate finery. — Nay, wert thou decked like some illustrious 
princess, on her coronation-day, in all the splendor of royal 
apparel; could^t thou equal even Solomon, in the height of 
his magnificence and glory ; yet would the meanest among 
the flowery populace outshine thee. Every discerning eye 
would give the preference to these beauties of the ground.f — 



her as anticipating, in her fond fancy, the victory of her son ; and indulging 
the following soliloquy :— " Have they not sped" ? have they not divided the 
prey? to Sisera a prey of divers colours ; a prey of divers colours of needle- 
work ; of divers colours of needle-work on both sides ; meet ibr the necks of 
them that take the spoil ? : '— She takes no notice of the signal service, which 
her hero would do to his country, by quelling so dangerous an insurrection. 
She never reflects on the present acclamations, die future advancement, 
and the eternal renown, which are the tribute usually paid to a conqueror's 
merit. She can conceive, it seems, nothing greater, than to be clad in an 
embroidered vesture ; and to trail along the ground, a robe of the richest 
dyes. This is, in her imagination, the most lordly spoil he can win ; the most 
stately trophy he can erect.— It is also observable* how she dwells upon the 
triviai circumstance, reiterating it again ami again. It has so charmed her 
ignoble heart, so entirely engrossed her little views, that she can think of 
nothing else, speak of nothing else, and can hardly ever desist from the darl- 
ing topic— Is not this a keen, though delicately couched censure, on that 
poor, contemptible, grovelling taste, which is enamoured with silken finery, 
and makes the attributes of a butterfly the idol of its affections ? 

How conspicuous is the elevated and magnificent spirit of that venerable 
mother in Israel, when viewed in comparison with the low, the despicable 
turn of this Canaanitish lady! — Such strong and beautiful contrasts are, I 
think, some of the most striking excellencies of poetic painting : and in no 
book are they more frequently used, or expressed with greater life, than in 
the sacred volumes of inspiration. 

* Peaceful and lowly in their native soil. 
They neither know to spin, nor care to toil : 
Yet with confess'd magnificence deride 
Our mean attire, and impotence of pride. —Prior. 

t Sir. Cowley, with his usual brilliancy of imagination styles them Stars »T 
earth, 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 99 

Scarf) then to borrow thy recommendations from a neat dis- 
position of threads, and a curious arrangement of colours. As- 
sume a becoming greatness of temper. Let thy endowments 
be of the immortal kind. Study to be all-glorious within. Be 
clothed with humility. Wear the ornament of a meek and 
quiet spirit* To say all in a word, " Put on the Lord Jesus 
Christ :"flet his blood be sprinkled, upon thy conscience, and 
it bhall be whiter than the virgin-snows. Let his righteous- 
ness, like a spotless robe, adorn thy inner man ; and thou shalt 
be amiable, even in the most distinguishing eye of God. Let 
his blessed Spirit dwell in thy heart ; and under his sanctify- 
ing operations, thou shalt be made partaker of a divine nature. 

These are real excellencies; truly noble accomplishments 
these. In this manner be arrayed, be beautified ; and thou 
wilt not find a rival in the feathers of a peacock, or the folia- 
tion of a tulip. These will exalt thee far above the low pre- 
tensions of lace and embroidery- These will prepare thee to 
stand in the beatific presence, and to take thy seat among the 
angels of light. 

What an inchanting situation is this ! One can scarce be 
melancholy within the atmosphere of flowers. Such lively 
hues, and delicious odours, not only address themselves agree- 
ably to the senses ,• but touch, with a surprising delicacy, the 
sweetest movements of the mind: 



- To the heart inspiring 



Vernal 4 delight and J03 7 . Milt. b. iv. 

* How beautiful does the prophet describe the furniture of a renewed and 
heavenly mind, under the similitude of a rich and complete suit of appax-el I 
" I will greatly rejoice in the Lord ; my soul shall be joyful in my God ; for 
he hath clothed me with the garments of salvation ; he hath covered me with 
the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decketh himself with ornaments, 
and as a bride adoraeth herself with her jewels." Isa. M. 10. 

1" Rem. xiii. 14. 

$ " I would have my reader endeavour to moralize this natural pleasure of 
• the soul, and to improve this vernal delight, as Milton calls it, into a Chris- 
" tian virtue. When we find ourselves inspired with this pleasing instinct, 
" tliis secret satisfaction and complacency, arising from the beauties of the crea- 
" tion, let us consider, to whom we stand indebted for all these entertain- 
" ments of sense ; and who it is that thus opens his hand, and fills the world 
" with good.— Such an habitual disposition of mind consecrates every field 
" and wood: turns an ordinary walk into a morning and evening sacrifice; 
B and will improve those transient gleams, vflnch naturally brighten up and 
" refresh the soul on such occasions, into an inviolable and perpetual state of 
" bliss and happiness." Sped, vol. v. No. 394. 



100 REFLECTIONS 

How often have I felt them dissipate the gloom of thought, 
and transfuse a sudden gaiety through the dejected spirit 1 I 
cannot wonder, tiiat kings descend from their thrones, to walk 
amidst blooming ivory and gold ; or retire from the most 
sumptuous feast, to be recreated with the more refined sweets 
of the garden. I cannot wonder, that queens forego, for a 
while, the compliments of a nation, to receive the tribute of a 
parterre ; or withdraw from all the glitter of a court, to be 
attended with the more splendid equipage of abed of flowers. 
— But if this be so pleasing, what transporting pleasure must 
arise from the fruition cf uncreated excellency ! O ! what un- 
known delight to enter into thy immediate presence, most 
blessed Lord God ! to see thee, thou king of heaven, and 
Lord of glory,* no longer " through a glass darkly, but face 
to face !" to have all thy goodness, all thy greatness, shine 
before Us ; and be made glad for ever with the brightest dis- 
covery of thy perfections, with the ineffable joy of thy coun- 
tenance ! 

This we cannot bear, in our present imperfect state. The 
effulgence of unveiled Divinity, would dazzle a mortal sight. 
Our feeble faculties, would be overwhelmed with such a ful- 
ness of superabundant bliss ; and must lie oppressed, under 
such an exceeding great, eternal weight of glory. — But, when 
this corruptible hath put on incorruption, the powers of the 
soul will be greatly invigorated ; and these earthly taberna- 
cels will be transformed into the likeness of Christ's glorious 
body. Then, " though the moon shall be confounded, and 
the sun ashamed," t when the Lord of hosts is revealed from 
heaven ; yet shall his faithful people be enabled to " see him 
as he is."* 

Here then, my wishes, here be fixed. Be this your deter- 
mined and invariable aim. — Here, my afFections, here give a 
loose to your whole ardour. Cry out in the language of 
'ion, " This one thing have I desired of the Lord, 

* Iseiah represents the felicity of the righteous, in the everlasting- world, 
by this elegant and amiable image ; " Thine eyes shall see the King in liis 
beauty. "—Milton touches the same subject, with wonderful elevation and 
majesty of thought : 



They walk with God, 



High in salvation, and the dimes of bliss. 

Words, which., like the fiery car, almost transport oar affection to ih«s« 
glorious abodes. Isa. xxxiii. 17. Milt. b. xi. v. 707. 

Isa. xxiv. 23. t I Joha iii. 2 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 101 

which with incessant earnestness, I will require ; that I may 
dwell in the celestial house of the Lord, all the days of my 
future life, to behold the fair beauty of the Lord ;"* and to 
contemplate, with wonder and adoration — with unspeakable 
and everlasting- rapture — all the attributes of the incompre- 
hensible godhead. 

Solomon, a most penetrating' judge of human nature, know- 
ing- how highly mankind is charmed with the fine qualities* 
of flowers, has figured out the blessed Jesus, that " fairest 
among ten thousand," by these lovely representatives. He 
styles him " the Rose of Sharon," f and the Lily of the val- 
leys t'l$ like the first, full of delights, and communicable 
graces, like the last, exalted in majesty, and complete in 
beauty. — In that sacred pastoral, he ranges the creation ; 
borrows its most finished forms ; and dips his pencil in ita 
choicest dyes, to present us with a sketch of the amiableness 
of his person: his amiableness, who is the light of the world; 
the glory of his church; the only hope, the sovereign conso- 
lation of sinners ; and exalted, infinitely exalted, not only above 
the sublimest comparison, but even " above all blessing and 
praise."— May I also make the same heavenly use of all sub- 
lunary enjoyments ! Whatever is pleasurable or charming be- 
low, let it raise my desire to those delectable objects, which 
are above ; which will yield, not partial, but perfect felicity ; 
not transient, but never-ending, satisfaction and joy. — Yes, 
my soul, let these beauties in miniature always remind thee of 
that glorious person, in whom '« dwells all the fulness of the 
godhead bodily." Let these little emanations teach thee to 
thirst after the eternal fountain. O ! may the creatures be thy 

* Psal. xxvii. 4. 1 1 Cant. ii. 1. 

Mains ut arboribus decori est, ut viiibus uvae, 
Utque rosse eampis, ut Jilia vallibus alba, 
Sic Christus decus omne suis.— < 

t By the ,: lily of the valleys," I apprehend, is meant, not the flower which 
commonly passes under that denomination, and is comparatively mean ; but 
the granxL majestic, garden lily, growing in a rich, irviguous soil, where it 
flourishes in the most ample maimer, and arrives at the highest perfection. 
The circumstance of the valleys, added by the sacred writer, is significant, 
not of the species, but of the place.— This is by far the noblest interpretation, 
and most exactly suitable to the spiritual sense ; which intimates, that the 
blessed Jesus delights to dwell, by the communication, of his Spirit, in ImmWe 
hearts.— Liliium vallibus gaudens. 

12 



102 REFLECTIONS 

constant clue to the Creator ! For this is a certain truth, and 
deserves thy frequent recollection, demands thy most atten- 
tive consideration, that the whole compass of finite perfection, 
is only a faint ray,* shot from that immense source : — is only 
a small drop, derived from that inexhaustible ocean — of all 
good. 

What a surprising- variety is observable among the flowery 
-tribes ! How has the bountiful hand of Providence diversified 
these nicest pieces of his workmanship ! added the charms 
of an endless novelty, to all their other perfections ! — A con- 
stant uniformity would soon render the entertainment tire- 
some, or insipid ; therefore every species is formed on a se- 
parate plan, and exhibits something entirely new. The fashion 
spreads not from family to family; but every one has a mode 
of its own, which is truly original. The most cursory glance 
peiceives an apparent difference, as well as a peculiar deli- 
cacy, in the airs and habits, the attitudes and lineaments, of 
every distinct class. 

Some rear their heads with a majestic mien, and overlook, 
like sovereigns or nobles, the whole parterre. Others seem 
more moderate in their aims, and advance only to the middle 
stations ; a genius turned for heraldly might term them the 
gentry of the border. While others, free from all aspiring 
views, creep unambitiously on the ground, and look like the 
commonalty of the kind. — Some are intersected with elegant 
stripes, or studded with radiant spots. Some affect to be gen- 
teely powdered, or neatly fringed ; while others are plain in 
their aspect, unaffected in their dress, and content to please 
with a naked simplicity. Some assume the monarch's pur- 
ple ; some look most becoming in the virgin's white ; but 
black, doleful black, has no admittance into the wardrobe of 
spring. The weeds of mourning would be a manifest indeco- 
rum, when nature holds an universal festival. She should 
now inspire none but delightful ideas, and therefore always 
makes her appearance in some amiable suit.f — Here stands a 
warrior, clad with crimson ; there sits a magistrate, robed in 
.scar-et ; and yonder struts a pretty fellow, that seems to have 
dipped his plumes in the rainbow, and glitters in all the gay 



- Thou sitt'st above all heav'n 



To us invisible, or dimly seen 

In these thy lowest works ; yet these declare 

Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine.— 3/< ft. b. 

■f .... ,. — . Nunc formosissimus arums.—— firg. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 1Q3 

colours of that resplendent arch. Some rise into a curious 
cup, or fall into a set of beautiful bells. Seme spread them- 
selves in a swelling tuft, or croud into a delicious cluster. — i 
In some, the predominant stain softens by the gentlest dimi- 
nution, till it has even stole away from itself. The eye is 
amused at the agreeable delusion ; and we wonder 'to find 
ourselves insensibly decoyed into a quite different lustre. In 
others, you would think the fine tinges were emulous of pre- 
eminence. Disdaining to mingle, the} 7 confront one another 
with the resolution of rivals determined to dispute the prize 
of beauty ; while each is improved, by the opposition, into the 
highest vivacity of complexion. 

«.' How manifold are thy works, O Lord !"* multiplied even 
to a prodigy Yet " in wisdom," consummate wisdom. " hast 
thou made them all." — How I admire the vastness of the con- 
trivance, and the exactness of the execution ? Man, feeble 
man, with difficulty accomplishes a single work. Hardly, 
and after many efforts, does he arrive at a tolerable imitation 
of some one production of nature. But the almighty Artist 
spoke millions of substances into instantaneous being; the 
whole collection wonderfully various, and each individual 
completely perfect. — Repeated experiments generally, I might 
say always, discover errors or defects in our happiest inven- 
tions. Nay, what wins our approbation, at the present hour, 
or in this particular place, is very probably, in some remote 
period, or some distant cjime treated with contempt. Where- 
as, these fine structures have pleased every taste, in ever} 
country, for almost six thousand years. Nor has any fault 
been detected in the original plan, nor any room left for the 
least improvement upon the first model, y — All our perform- 
ances, the more minutely they are scanned, the more imper- 
fect they appear. With regard to these delicate objects, the 
more we search into their properties, the more we are ravish- 
ed with their graces. They are sure to disclose fresh strokes 
of the most masterly skill, in proportion to the attention with 
which they are examined. 

Nor is the simplicity of the operation less astonishing, than 
the- accuracy of the workmanship, or the infinitude of the 
effects* Should you ask, " Where and what are the mate- 
iS rials which beautify the blooming world ? What rich tints, 
** what splendid dyes, what stores of shining crayons, stand 

* Psal. eir. 24. 

t Eceles. iii. 14. c - I know that whatsoever God doeth. it shall be tit.;' 
nothing can be put to it. nor any thing- taken fronVit." 



104 REFLECTIONS 

" by the heavenly Limner, when he paints the robe of na- 
" ture :" 'Tis answered, His powerful pencil needs no such 
costly apparatus. A single principle, undejr his conducting 
hand, branches out into an immensity of the most varied, and 
most finished forms. The moisture 'of the earth, and of the 
circumambient air, passed through proper strainers, and dis- 
posed in a range of pellucid tubes ; this performs all the won- 
ders, and produces all the beauties, of vegetation. This 
creeps along the fibres of the low-spread moss, and climbs to 
the very tops of the lofty- waving cedars. This, attracted by 
the root, and circulating through invisible canals ; this bursts 
into gems, expands itself into leaves, and clothes the forest 
with all its verdant honours — This one,* plain and simple, 
cause, gives birth to all the charms, which deck the youth 
and maturity of the year. This blushes in the early hepatica, 
and flames in the late advancing poppy. This reddens into 
blood in the veins of the mulberry ; and attenuates itself into 
leafen gold, to create a covering for the quince. This breathes 
in all the fragrant gales of our garden, and weeps odorous 
gum in the groves of Arabia..— So wonderful is our Creator in 
counsel, and so excellent in working !j 

In a grove of tulips, or a knot of pinks, one perceives a dif- 
ference in almost every individual. Scarce any two are turned 
and tinctured exactly alike. Each allows himself a little par- 
ticularity in his dress, though all belong to one family ; so 
that they are various, and yet the same. — A pretty emblem 
this of the smaller differences between Protestant Christians. 
There are modes in religion, which admit of variation, with- 
out prejudice to sound faith, or real holiness. Just as the dra- 
pery on these pictures of the spring*, may be formed after a 
variety of patterns, without blemishing their beauty, or alter- 
ing their nature. — Beit so then, that in some points of incon- 
siderable consequence, several of our brethren dissent: Yet 
let us all live amicably and sociably together; for we harmo- 
nize in principles, though we vary in punctilios. Let us join in 
conversation, and intermingle interests ; discover no estrange- 
ment of behaviour, and cherish no alienation of affection. If 

* K When every several effect has a particular separate'eause, this gives no 
" pleasure to the spectator, as .not discovering contrivance. But that work 
" is beheld with admiration and delight, as the result of deep counsel, which 
•* is complicated in its parts, and yet simple in its operations ; where a great 
* variety of effects are seen to arise from one principle operating uniformly.-' 

Mtrntthy en the Attribute. 
Isa. xxviii. 29. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 105 

any strife subsist, let it be to follow our divine Master most 
closely, in humility of heart, and unblamableness of life. 
Let it be to serve one another most readily, in all the kind 
offices of a cordial friendship. Thus shall we be united, 
though distinguished ; united in the same grand fundamentals, 
though distinguished by some small circumstantials ; united 
in one important bond of brotherly love, though distinguished 
by some slighter peculiarities of sentiment. 

Between Christians, whose judgments disagree only about 
a form of prayer, or manner of worship, I apprehend, there is 
no more essential difference, than between flowers which 
bloom from the same kind of seed, but happen to be some- 
what diversified in the mixture of their colours. — Whereas, if 
one denies the divinity of our Lord Jesus Christ, and degrades 
the incarnate God to the meanness of a mere creature ; if ano- 
ther cries up the worthiness of human works, and depreciates 
the alone -meritorious righteousness of the glorious Mediator ; 
if a third addi'essess the incommunicable honours to a finite 
being, and bows to the image, or prays to the saint—- These 
are errors extremely derogatory to the Redeemer's dignity, 
and not a little prejudicial to the comfort of his people. 
Against these to remonstrate ; against these to urge every 
argument, and use every dissuasive ; bespeaks not the censo- 
rious bigot, but the friend of truth, and the lover of mankind. 
— Whereas, to stand neuter and silent, while such principles 
are propagated, would be an instance of criminal remissness, 
rather than of Christian moderation. — For the persons, we 
will not fail to maintain a tender compassion ; we will not 
cease to put up earnest intercessions ; we will also acknow- 
ledge and love whatever is excellent and amiable in their 
character. Yet we dare not subscribe their creed; we must 
not secrete our strong reasons ; we cannot remit our assidu- 
ous, but kind endeavours, if by any means we may reconcile 
them to a more scriptural belief, and a purer worship.* 

* In some former editions. I expressed myself on this point ua warily and 
harshly. But my meaning, and real sentiments, were no other than those 
represented above. The reader, from such unguarded intimations, might 
too naturally be led to conclude, that the author avows, and would stir up 
a spirit of persecution. But this is a method of dealing with opponents ir- 
religious doctrines, which he disclaims, as absurd ; and abhors, as inkjtu; 
tons. He is for no force, but that of rational conviction ; for no constraint, 
but that of affectionate persuasion. Thus, if vou please, compel tke«r. u- 
e»me in. Luke xir. 23. 



106 REFLECTIONS 

Another remarkable circumstance, recommending- and en- 
dearing the flowery creation, is their regular succession. 
They make not their appearance all at once, but in an orderly 
rotation. While a proper number of these obliging retainers 
are in waiting, the others abscond; but hold themselves in 
a posture of service, ready to take their turn, and fill each his 
respective station, the instant it becomes vacant. — The snow- 
drop, foremost of the lovely train, breaks her way through the 
frozen soil, in order to present her early compliments to her 
Lord. Dressed in the robe of innocency, she steps forth, fear- 
less of danger; long before the trees have ventured to unfold 
their leaves, even while the icicles are pendent on our houses. 
— Next peeps out the crocus, but cautiously, and with an air 
of timidity. She hears the howling blasts, and skulks close 
to her low situation. Afraid she seems to make large excur- 
sions from her root, while so many 'ruffian winds>are abroad, 
and scouring along the sether — Nor is the violet last, in this 
shinning embassy of the year; which with all the embellish- 
ments that would grace a royal garden, condescends to line 
our hedges, and grow at the feet of briers. Freely, and with- 
out any solicitation, she distributes the bounty of her emissive 
sweets: while herself, with an exemplary humility, retires 
from the sight; seeking rather to administer pleasure, than 
to win admiration* Emblem, expressive emblem, of those 
modest virtues, which delight to bloom in obscurity ; which 
extend a cheering influence to multitudes, who are scarce 
acquainted with the source of their comforts? Motive, en- 
gaging motive, to .that ever-active beneficence, which stays 
not for the importunity of the distressed, but anticipates their 
suit, and prevents them with the blessings of its goodness ! — 
The poor polyanthus, that lately adorned the border with her 
sparkling* beauties, and, transplanted into our windows, gave 
us a fresh entertainment, is now no more. I saw her com- 
plexion, fade ; Iperceived her breath decay ; till at length she 
expired, and droptinto her grave. — Scarce have we sustained 
this loss, but in comes the auricula, and more than retrives 
it. Arrayed she comes, in a splendid variety of amiable forms ; 
with an eye of crystal, and garments of the most glossy sat- 
tin ; exhaling perfume, and powdered with silver. . A very 
distinguished procession this ! The favourite care of the 
florist! Scarce one among them, but is dignified with a 
character of renown, or has the honour to represent some ce- 
lebrated toast. But these also, notwithstanding their illus- 

* Predesse qrara CBiwpki. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 107 

trious titles, have exausted their whole stock of fragrance, 
and are mingled with the meanest dust. — Who could forbear 
grieving at their departure, did not the tulips begin to raise 
themselves on their fine wands, or stately stalks ? They iiush 
the parterre with one of the gayest dresses that blooming na- 
ture wears. Did ever beau or belle make so gaudy an appear- 
ance, in a birth-night suit ? Here one may behold the innocent 
wantonness of beauty. Here she indulges a thousand freaks, 
and sports herself in the most charming diversity of colours. 
Yet I should wrong her, were I to call her a coquette ; be- 
cause she plays her lovely changes, not to enkindle dissolute 
affections, but to display her Creators glory. — Soon arises the 
anemone ; encircled at the bottom with a spreading robe, and 
rounded at the top into a beautiful dome. In its loosely- 
flowing mantle, you may observe a noble negligence ; in its 
gently bending tufts, the nicest symmetry. I would term it 
the fine gentleman of the garden ; because it seems to have 
learned the singular address of uniting simplicity with refine- 
ment, of reconciling art and ease. — The same month has the 
merit of producing the ranunculus. All bold and graceful, it 
expands the riches of its foliage ; and acquires, by degrees, 
the loveliest enamel in the world. As persons of intrinsic 
worth disdain the superficial arts of recommendation, practis- 
ed by fops ; so this lordly flower scorns to borrow any of its 
excellence from powders and essences. It needs no such at* 
tractives, to render it the darling of the curious ; being suffi- 
ciently engaging from the elegance of its figure, the radiant 
variety of its tinges, and a certain superior dignity of aspect. 
Methinks nature improves in her operations. Her latest 
strokes are most masterly. To crown the collection, she in- 
troduces the carnation ; which captivates evei'y eye, with a 
noble spread of graces ; and charms another sense, with a 
profusion of exquisite odours. This single flower has centred 
in itself, the perfections of all the preceding. The moment 
it appears, it so commands our attention, that we scarce re- 
gret the absence of the rest — The gilly-flower, like a real 
friend, attends you through all the vicissitudes and altera- 
tions of the season. While others make a transient visit only, 
this is rather an inhabitant, than a guest in your gardens; 
and adds fidelity to complaisance. 

It is in vain to attempt a catalogue of these amiable gifts. 
There is an endless multiplicity in their characters, yet an in- 
variable order in their approaches. Every month, almost eve- 
ry week, has its peculiar ornaments ; not servilely copying the 
works of its predecessor, but forming, still forming, and still 



108 REFLECTIONS 

executing 1 some new design. So lavish is the fancy, yet s* 
exact is the process, of nature. 

Here let me stand a while, to contemplate this distribution 
of flowers, through the several periods of the year. — Were 
they all to blossom together, there would be at onrce a promis- 
cuous throng, and at once a total privation. We should scarce 
have an opportunity of adverting to the dainty qualities of 
half; and must soon lose the agreeable company of them all. 
But now since every species has a separate post to occupy, 
and a distinct interval for appearing, we can take a leisurely 
and minute survey of each succeeding set We can view and 
review their forms ; enter into a more intimate acquaintance 
with their charming accomplishments ; and receive all those 
pleasing services, which they are commissioned to yield. — 
This remarkable piece of oeconomy, is productive of another 
very valuable effect. It not only places, in the most advanta- 
geous light, every particular community ; but is also a sure 
provisionary resource against the frailty of the whole nation. 
Or, to speak more truly, it renders the flowery tribes a sort of 
*immortal corps. For though some are continually dropping ; 
yet by this expedient, others are as continually rising to beau- 
tify our borders, and prolong the entertainment. 

What goodness is this, to provide such a series of gratifi- 
cation for mankind ! both to diversify, and perpetuate the fine 
collation ! to take care, that our paths should be, in a man- 
ner, incessantly strewed with flowers ! — And what wisdom, 
to bid every one of these insensible beings know the precise 
juncture for their coming forth ! insomuch that no actor on a 
stage can be more exact in performing his part ; can make a 
more regular entry, or a more punctual exit. 

Who emboldens the daffodil to venture abroad in February, 
and to trust her flowering gold with inclement and treacherous 
skies ? Who informs the various tribes of fruit-bearing blos- 
soms, that vernal suns, and a more genial warmth, are fittest 
for their delicate texture ? Who teaches the clove to stay, till 
hotter beams are prepared, to infuse a spicy richness into her 
odours, and tincture her complexion with the deepest crimson ? 
—Who disposes these beautiful troops into such orderly bo- 
dies, retarding some and accelerating others ? Who has in- 

* In allusion to the celebrated practice of the Persian kings ; " who 
' ; maintained, for their life-guard, a body of troops, called immortal; be- 
*? cause it perpetually subsisted : for as soon as any of the men died, an- 
~ other was immediately put in his place."' 

ReHin's Ancient Hutory t vol. H« 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 109 

structed them to file off, with such perfect regularity, as soon 
as the duty of their respective station is over ? And, when 
one detachment retires, who gives the signal for another im- 
mediately to advance ? Who, but that unerring Providence, 
which, from the highest thrones of angels, to the very lowest 
degrees of existence, orders all things in " number, weight, - 
and measure !". 

These, O my soul, are the regulations of that most adora- 
ble, that most beneficent Being, who bowed the heavens ; 
came down to dwell on earth ; and united the frailty of thy 
mortal nature, to all the glories of his Godhead. All the ho- 
nour of this admirable establishment belongs to thy Ransom, 
thy Surety, thy Saviour. To him it belongs, who sustained 
the vengeance, which thou hadst deserved, and wast doomed 
to suffer ; who fulfilled the obedience, which thou wast oblig- 
ed, but unable to perform ; and who humbled himself (stu- 
pendous, ineffable loving-kindness !) humbled himself to death, 
even the death of the cross. — He formed this vast machine, 
and adjusted its nicest dependencies. The pillars that sup- 
port it, the embellishments that adorn it, and the laws that 
govern it, are the result of his unsearchable counsels. O! 
the heights of his majesty, and the depths of his abasement! 
Which shall we admire most, his essential greatness, or his 
free grace ? He created the exalted seraph, that sings in glo- 
ry; and every the minutest insect, that flutters in air, or 
crawls in dust. He marks out a path for all those globes of 
light, which travel the circuit of the skies; and disdains not 
to rear the violet from its lowly bed, or to plait the daisy • 
which dresses our plains. So grand are his operations ; yet so 
condescending his regards ! — If summer, like a sparkling 
bride, is brilliant and glorious in her apparel ; what is this, but 
a feeble reflection of his uncreated effulgenceJ If autumn, 
like a munificent host, opens her stores, and gives us all things 
richly to enjoy ; what is this, but a little taste of his inexhaus- 
tible liberality ? If thunders roar, you. hear the sound -of his 
trumpet ; if lightnings glare, you see the launching of his 
glittering spear : If cc the perpetual hills be scattered, and 
the evei'lasting mountains bowed," you behold a display !- — 
no, says the prophet, you have rather the hiding of his power.* 

* Hab. iii. 4. Nothing can be more magnificently conceived than the 
imagery of this whole chapter ; and upon the foot of our interpretation, no- 
thing was ever more delicately and nobly turned, than the sentiment of 
this clause. Other senses of the passage, I acknowledge, may be assigned 
with equal propriety. But none, l think, can he imagined so majestic am! 

Vol, I. K 



110 REFLECTIONS 

So immense is his power, so uncontrollable and inconceivable, 
that all these mighty works are but a sketch, in which more 
is concealed than discovered. 

" Thus, I think, we should always view the visible system, 
with an evangelical telescope (if I may be allowed the expres- 
sion) and with an evangelical microscope ; regarding Christ 
Jesus as the great projector and architect, who planned and 
executed, the amazing scheme. Whatever is magnificent or 
valuable, tremendous or amiable, should ever be ascribed to 
the Redeemer. This is the Christian's natural philosophy. 
With regard to this method of" considering the things that are 
seen, we have an inspired apostle for our preceptor and pre- 
cedent. Speaking of Christ, he says, " Thou, Lord, in " the 
beginning, hast laid the foundation of the earth ; and the hea- 
vens are the work of thy hands." — Did we carefully attend 
to this leading principle, in all our examinations of nature ; 
it would, doubtless, be a most powerful means of enkindling 
our love, and strengthening our faith.* When I look round 

sublime. As the original will fairly admit of it as it carries no disagreement 
with the context; and expresses a most important, as well as undoubted 
truth ; I hope I may be permitted to use it, at hast by way of accommoda- 
tion.— Especially, as it suggests one of the finest mottoes imaginable where- 
with to inscribe all the visible productions of the Creator's hand. When, 
struck v ith astonishment we consider their grandeur, beauty, and consum- 
mate perfections; let us, injustice to their author apply the exalted reflec- 
tion or this sacred ode ; " In all these i* the hiding, rather than an adequate 
t; display, of Ids matchless power. Though they challenge our praise and 
" surpass our comprehension ; yet they are by no means the utmost exer- 
" tions, but rather some slighter essays of omnipotent skill. "—Milton, relating 
the overthrow of the fallen angels, introduces a grand circumstance, not 
much unlike the preceding. Messiah, unaided and alone, bad routed an in- 
numerable host of apostate spirits. This was great and marvellous. BtJt 
to create a juster idea of the illustrious conqueror, our poet beautifully 
adds, 

Yet half his strength he put not forth. 

If we forget to make the same remarks, when we contemplate God in his 
works; we must necessarily form very scanty conceptions of that Supreme 
Being, before whom all nations are as a "drop of a bucket, and are count- 
ed as the small dust of the balance." 

* The apostle, I observe, delights to use this method of displaying the ho- 
nours of the Redeemer, and establishing the faith of his people.— The beloy- 
od disciple, teaching that most precious doctrine, " »f a Lamb Aam to tak« 






ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. Ill 

upon millions of noble substances, and carry with me this 
transporting reflection, " The Maker of them all expired on 
across for me; how can I remain any longer indifferent { 
Must not the coldest heart begin to glow with gratitude r — 
When I survey an immensity of the finest productions ima- 
ginable ; and remember that the author of them all is my 
righteousness *< and my redemption ;" how can I cause but 
repose the most cheerful confidence in such a Mediator ? 

Let me add one more remark, upon: the admirable adjust- 
ment of every particular relating to these fine colonies plant- 
ed in the parterre. — With such accuracy and correctness is 
their structure finished, that any the least conceivable altera- 
tion would very much impair their perfection. Should you 
see, for instance, the nice disposition of the tulip's attire fly 
abroad, disorderly, and irregular, like the flaunting woodbine ; 
should the jessamine rear her diminutive head, on those 
grand columns which support the hollihock ; should the erect 
and manly aspect of the piony hang down with a pensive air, 
like the flexile bells of the hyacinth ; should that noble plain- 
ness which distinguishes the lily, be exchanged for the glitter- 



away the sins of the world ;" iu oratr to evince the sufficiency of Christ's 
sacrifice for this blessed purpose, affirms, that all things were made by him ; 
and without him was not any thing, no, not so much as one single being 
made, John i. 3.— St. Paul preaching the same glad tidings to the Colossians, 
and expressly mai i tail I jug, that we have redemption through his blood, seems 
to foresee an objection of this kind. " To expiate transgressions against 
" an infinite Majesty, is a most prodigious act. It must cost vastly more than 
" any common surety can pay, to redeem a sinful world. What reason have 
" we to believe, that Jesus is equal to this mighty undertaking?"' All possi- 
ble reason, replies the apostle, from the dignity of his person, for he is the 
image of the invisible God ; and from the greatness of his works, for by him 
all things were made. Consider the operations of his hands, and you can- 
not doubt the atoning efficacy of his death, Col. i. 15, 16.— The author of the 
epistle to the Hebrews, falls exactly into the same train of arguing. Declar- 
ing, that Christ Jesus has purged our sins by the sacrifice of himself,, he 
proves liis ample ability for this tremendous office, from his essential excel- 
lence, because he is the brightness of his Father's glory ; and from his admi- 
rable works, because he made the worlds, and upholdeth all things by the 
word of his power, Heb. i. 2, 3.— Which truth, as it is so important in itself, 
of such signal comfort to Christians, and so particularly insisted on by the in- 
spired writers, I hope I shall need no apology for an attempt to illustrate and 
enforce it, in a kina of evangelical Descaut on Creation, annexed to these 
Reflections. 



112 REFLECTIONS 

ing- fringes which edge the pink, or the gaudy stains which 
bedrop the iris ; should those tapering pillars which arise in 
the middle of its' vase, and, tipt with g-olden pendants, give 
such a lustre to the surrounding pannels of alabaster — should 
those sink and disappear, like the chives which cover the heart 
of the anemone : — In many of these cases, would not the 
transposition be fantastical and awkward ? — in all, to the ap- 
parent prejudice of every individual r 

Again, with regard to the time of their appearing, this cir- 
cumstance is settled, by a remarkable foresight and precau- 
tion. What would become of the sailor, if, in very stormy 
weather, he should raise a lofty mast, and croud it with all his 
canvass ! Such would be the ill effect, if the -most stately spe- 
cies of flowers should presume to come abroad, in the bluster- 
ing months. Ah ! how would theyrue the imprudent bold- 
ness! Therefore those only that shoot the shortest stems, and 
display the smallest spread of leaves, or (if you please) car- 
ry the least sail, are launched amidst the blowing seasons. — 
How injudiciously would the perfumer act, if he should unseal 
his finest essences, and expose them to the northern winds, 
-ry rains ! Our blooming artists of the aromatic pro- 
fession, at least the most delicate among them, seem per- 
v of the consequences of such a procedure. Ac- 
cordingly they postpone the opening of their odoriferous trea- 
sures, till a serener air,* and more unclouded skies, grant a 

* Casiroir. in a very poetical manner, addresses himself to the dormant rose, 
and most prettily invites her to venture abroad, by the mention of these xxrm 
circumstances. 

Siderum sacros imitata vultus, 
Quid lates dudum, rosa ? delicatum 
Effer e terris caput, O tepentis 

Filia coelL 

Jam tibi nubes fugiunt aquosae 
Quas fugant albis Zephyri quadrigis ; 
Jam tibi muled Boream jocantis 

Aura Faroni. 

Child of the summer, charming rose, 

Xo longer in confinement lie ; 
Arise to light ; thy form disclose ; 

Rival the spangles of the sky. 

The rains are gone ; the storms are o'er ; 

Winter retires to make thee way : 
Come then, thou sweetly blushing fiow'r ; 

Come lovely stranger, "come away. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 113 

protection to their amiable traffic ; till they are under no 
more apprehensions of having- their spicy cells rifled by rude 
blasts, or drowned in incessant showers. 

What a striking 1 argument is here for resignation ; unfeign- 
ed resignation, to all the disposals of Providence ? Too often 
are our dissatisfied thoughts apt to find fault with divine dis- 
pensations. We tacitly arraign our Maker's conduct, or ques- 
tion his kindness with regard to ourselves. We fancy our 
lot not so commodiously situated, or our condition not so hap- 
pily circumstanced, as if we had been placed in some other 
station of life. — But let us behold this exquisitely nice regu- 
lation of the minutest plants, and be ashamed, of our repen- 
ing folly. Could any fibre in their composition be altered, or 
one line in their features be transposed, without clouding some 
of their beauties ? Could any fold in their vestments be varied, 
or any link in their orderly succession be broken, without in- 
juring some delicate property ? And does not that All-seeing 
eye, which preserves so exact a harmony among these pretty 
toys, maintain as watchful a care over his rational creatures ? 
Does he chuse the properest season for the cowslip to arise, 
and drink the dews ? And can he neglect the concerns, or 
misjudge the conveniences, of his sons and daughters ? He, 
who has so completely disposed whatever pertains to the ve- 
getable ceconomy, that the least diminution or addition would 
certainly hurt the finished scheme, does, without all perad- 
venture, preside, with equal attention, over the interests of his 
own people. 

Be still, then, thou uneasy mortal* ; know that God is un> 

The sun is dressed in beaming smiles. 

To give thy beauties to the day ; 
Young zephyrs wait, with gentlest gales, 

To Ian thy bosom, as they play. 

* Permktas ipsis expendere numimhus, quid 
Conveniat nobis, rebusoue -it utile nostris. 
Nam pro jucundis aptissima quseque dabunt dii : 
Carior est illis homo, quam sibi.— JTJV. 

Since all the downward tracts of time 

God's watchful eye surveys ; 
O ! who so wise to chuse our lot, 

And regulate our ways ? 

Since none can doubt bis equal lovfi T 

Uumeasurably kind, 
To his unerring, gracious will, 

Be c-v'ry -wish resign'd. 

K2 



114 REFLECTIONS 

erringly wise ; and be assured, that, amidst the greatest mul- 
tiplicity or beings he does not overlook thee. Thy Saviour has 
given me authority to assert, that thou art of far superior va- 
lue, in the estimate of Omnipotence, than all the herbage of 
the field — If his sacred will ordains sickness for thy portion, 
never dare to imagine, that uninterrupted health would be 
more advantageous. If he pleases to withhold, or take away, 
children ; never presume to conclude, that thy happiness is 
blasted, because thy hopes of an increasing family are disap- 
pointed. He that marshals all the starry host, and so accu- 
rately arranges every the meanest species of herbs ; he or- 
ders all the peculiarities, all the changes of thy state, with a 
vigilance that nothing can elude, with a goodness that endu- 
reth for ever. — Bow thy head, therefore, in humble acquies- 
cence. Rest satisfied. That whatever is by the -appointment of 
Heaven,* is right, is best. 

Among all the productions of the third creating day, this of 
fiowers seems to be peculiarly designed for man. Man has 
the monopoly of this favour; it is conferred on him by a sort 
of exclusive charter. See the imperial crown, splendid and 
beautifully grand ! See the tuberose, delicate and languishing- 
ly fair ! See all the pomp and glory of the parterre, where 
paint and perfume do wonders. Yet the inferior animals are 
neither smit with their beauties, nor regaled with their odours. 
The horse never stands still to gaze upon their charms; nor 
does the ox turn- aside to browse upon their sweets. Senses 
they have to discern these curious objects in the gross, but 
no taste to distinguish, or relish their fine accomplishments — 

Good when he gives, supremely good ; 

Nor less, when he denies; 
E'en crosses, from his sovereign hand, 

Are blessings in disguise. 

* Whatever is. is right.— If Mr. Pope understands the maxim according to 
the limitation suggested above, he speaks a most undeniable and glorious 
truth. Eut if that great poet includes whatever comes to pass, through the 
wild and extravagant passions of men; surely no thinking person, at least 
no Christian, can accede to his opinion. — W T hat God orders, is wise, beyond 
all possibility of* correction ; and good, above all that we can ask or think. 
His decrees, are the result of infinite discernment; and his dispensations, the 
issues of unbounded benevolence- — But man, fallen man, is hurried away, by 
his lusts, into a thousand irregularities ; which are deplorably evil in them- 
selves, and attended with consequences manifestly pernicious to societv.— 
Let the sentiment therefere. be restrained to the disposals of Heaven, and I 






ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 115 

Just so carnal and unenlightened men may understand the 
literal meaning of scripture, may comprehend the evidences 
of its divine inspiration ; yet have no relish of the heavenly 
truths it teaches, no ardent longing for the spiritual blessings 
it offers ; and see" no form or comeliness" in the Saviour it 
describes, so as to render him the supreme desire of their 
souls. 

The chief end of these beautiful appearances, philcsphers 
say, is to enfold and cherish the embryo seed, or to swathe the 
tender body daring its infant state. — But, whatever is the chief 
end of nature,'tis certain, she never departs from the design of 
administering delight to mankind.* This is inseparably con- 
nected with her other views. — Were it only to secure a repro- 
ductive principle, what need of such elegant complications ? 
Why so much art" employed, and, so many decorations 
added? Why should vestments be prepared, richer than bro- 
cades, more delicate than lawns, and of a finer glow than the 
most admired velvets ? — If the great mother had no other aim 
than barely to accommodate her offspring, warm flannel, or 
homely fustian, would have served her turn ; served it full as 
well as the most sumptuous tissues, or all the furniture of the 
mercer's shop. 

Evident then it is, that" flowers were endued with such in- 
chanting graces for the pleasure of man. In pursuance of this 
original intention, they have always paid their court to the 
human race ; they still seem particularly solicitous of recom- 
mending themselves to our regard. The finest of each spe- 
cies croud about our habitations, and are rarely to be seen at 
a distance from our abodes. They thrive under our cultivat- 
ing hand, and observing eye ; but degenerate, and pine away, 

most readily subscribe it. But, if it be extended to the conduct of men, 
and the effects of their folly ; I think myself obliged to enter my protest a- 
gainst it. For whatever kindles the divine indignation, — is cause of final ruin 
to the author,— is strictly forbidden by God's holy word, — is contrary to the 
whole design of his revealed will, and the very reverse of his essential attri- 
butes :— This cannot possibly be right ; this is most undoubtedly wrong. 
Omnipotence, indeed, can over-rule it, and eduee good from it ; but the ve- 
ry notion of over-ruling, supposes it to be absolutely wrong in itself. 

* 5' Wc find that the most important parts in the vegetable world, are 
" those which are the most beautiful. These are the seeds by wbich the 
" several races of plants are propagated and continued, and which are al- 
" ways lodged in flowers or blossoms. Nature seems to hide ber principal 
[ u design, and to be industrious in making the earth gay and delightful, 
" while she i3 carrying on the great work, and latent upon her own preser- 
"ration." Spcct, vel, f , Fo 387- 



116 REFLECTIONS 

if unregarded by their Lord. To win his attention, and deck 
his retreats, they hide their deformities under ground; and 
display nothing hrtt the most graceful forms, and engaging- 
colours to his sight — To merit a farther degree of his esteem, 
the generality of them dispense a delightful perfume. What 
is still more obliging, they reserve their richest exhalations, * 
to embalm his morning and evening walks, f Because he 
usually chooses those cool hours to recreate himself among 
their blooming ranks : therefore, at those hours, they are most 
lavish of their fragrance, and breathe out their choicest 
spirits. 

O man, greatly beloved by thy Creator ! the" 1 darling of 
Providence ! thou art distinguished by his goodness ; distin- 
guish thyself also by thy gratitude. Be it thy one undivided 
aim to glorify him, who has been at so much expence to gra- 
tify thee! — While all these inferior creatures, in silent elo- 
quence, declare the glory of God, do thou lend them thy 
tongue. Be thou the high priest of the mute creation. Let 
their praises become vocal in thy songs — Adore the supreme 
Benefactor, for the blessings he showers down upon every or- 
der of beings. Adore him for numberless mercies, which are 
appropriated to thyself. But, above all, adore him for that 
noble gift of a rational and immortal soul. — This constitutes 
us masters of the globe, and gives us the real enjo3'ment of 
its riches. This discovers ten thousand beauties, which other- 
■wise had been lost ; and renders them both a source of de- 
lights and a nursery of devotion. — By virtue of this exalted 
principle, we are qualified to admire our Maker's works, and 
capable of bearing his illustrious image ; bearing his illustri- 
ous image, not only when^fehese ornaments of the ground 
have resigned their honours, but when the great origin of 
day is extinguished in the skies, and all the flaming orbs on 
high are put out in obscure darkness — Then to survive, to 
survive the ruins of one world, and to enjoy God, — to resem- 
ble God,' — to be " filled with all the fulness of God," in ano- 
ther j — what a happiness, what an inestimable happiness, is 



That op'ning now their choicest bosonvd smells, 

Beserv'd frotu night, and kept for thee in store.-— -Mikon ■ 



t The twining jesmine. and the blushing rose, 
"With lavish grace their morning-scents disclose ; 
The smelling tub'rose and jonquil declare 
The stronger impulse of aa er'aing air.— —Prior's StL 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 117 

this ! Yet this is thy privilege (baiter it not for trifles of an 
hour ?) this thy glorious prerogative, O man ! 

O ! the goodness, the exuberant goodness, of our God ! I 
cannot forbear celebrating it once more, before I pass to ano- 
ther consideration. — How much should we think ourselves 
obliged to a generous friend, who should build a stately edi- 
fice,* purely for our abode ! But how greatly would the obli- 



* I cannot persuade myself, that the comparison is stretched heyond proper 
bounds, when carried to this pitch. It is my steadfast opinion, that the world, 
at least this lower world, with its various appurtenances, was intended purely 
for man ; that it is appropriated to him ; and that he in (in subordination to 
God's glory) is. the 'end of its creation.— Other animals, it is true, partake of 
the Creator's benefits : But then they partake under the notion of man's do- 
mestics, or on the foot of retainers to him ; as creatures which bear some re- 
lation to his service, and some way or other contribute to his good. So that 
still he is the centre of the whole ; or as our incomparable Milton, equally 
master of poetry and divinitv, expresses himself, All things live for man. Far. 
Post,b. xi. lin. 16]. 

Mr. Pope in his Ethic Epistles, is pleased to explode this tenet, as the 
height of pride, and a gross absurdity. — For my part, I see no reason for such 
a charge. With all submission to so superior a genius, it seems very remote 
from pride, to be duly sensihle of favours vouchsafed ; to contemplate them 
in all the extent of their munificence, and acknowledge them accordingly. I 
should rather imagine, that to contract their size when they are immensely 
large Jto stint their number, when they are altogether innumerable : that such - 
a procedure savours more of insensibility, than our hypothesis of presump- 
tion: and has more in it of ingratitude, than that of arrogance. 

And how can it be deemed an absurdity, to maintain that God gave us a 
world ibr our possession, when it is our duty to believe, that he gave us his 
only Son for our propitiation ? Sure, it can be neither difficult, nor extrava- 
gant, to suppose, that he designed the habitable globe, with its whole furni- 
ture, for our present use; since he withheld not his holy child Jesus, but free- 
ly delivered him up, for our final salvation. 

Upon the whole, I cannot but conclude, that the attempt of our famous 
poet is neither kind with regard to his fellow-ereatures, — nor grateful, with 
regard to his Creator ;— neither is his scheme, in fact, true. The attempt not 
kind with regard to man, because it robs him of one of the most delightful 
and ravishing contemplations imaginable. To consider the great Author of 
existence as having me in his eye, when he formed universal nature ; as con- 
triving all things with an immediate view to the exigencies of my particular 
state ; and making them all in such a manner, as might be most conducive to 
my particular advantage; this must occasion the strongest satisfactions, 
whenever least a glance ©n tke objects that surrouad me.— Nat grateful, 



113 REFLECTIONS 

gation be increased, if the hand that built should also furnish 
it ! and not only furnish it with all that is commodious and 
comfortable, but ornament it also with whatever is splendid 
and delightful ! This has our most indulgent Creator done, in 
a manner infinitely surpassing- all we could wish or imagine. 

The earth is assigned us for a dwelling. — The skies are 
stretched over us like a magnificent canopy, dyed in the pu- 
rest azure; and beautified, now with pictures of floating sil-, 
ver, now with colourings of reflecting crimson. — The grass is 
spread under us, as a spacious carpet; wove with silken, 
threads of green, and damasked with flowers of every hue. — 
^The sun, like a golden lamp, is hung out in the etherial vault ; 
and pours his effulgence, all the day, to lighten our paths. — 
When night approaches, the moon takes up the friendly office ; 
and the stars are kindled in twinkling myriads, to cheer the 
darkness with their milder lustre, not disturb our repose by 
too intense a glare. — The clouds, besides the rich paintings 



with regard to God ; because it 1ms the most direct tendency to diminish ouv 
sense of his kindness, and by that means to throw a damp upon our gratitude. 
it teaches us to look upon ourselves as almost lost amonga croud of other beings, 
nr regarded only with an occasional and incidental beneficence ; which must 
certainly weakeirthe disposition, and indeed slacken the ties, to the most 
adoring thankfulness.— To which. I apprehend, v. !. Neither 

is the scheme, in (act. true. For. i ; .t be urged from 

the sure word of revelatii ,'i-r.T appeal's -' 

sive. The world began with man: the world must cease with man; conse- 
quently, the grand use, the principal end of the world, is, to subserve the in- 
terest of man. It is on all sides agreed, that the edifice was erected, when 
man was to be furnished with an habitation ; and that it will be demolished, 
when man has no farther need of its accommodations. When he enters into 
the house not made .-.ith hands, eternal in the heavens, "the earth and all 
the works that are therein, shall be burnt up." From which it seems a very 
obvious and fair deduction, that man is the final cause of this inferior crea- 
tion. 

So that I think my readers and my self privileged (not to say on the princi- 
ples of gratitude, obliged) to use those lovely lines of our :.uthor, with a pro- 
priety and truth equal to their elegance and beauty : 

For me kind Nature wakes her genial pow'r, 
Suckles each herb, and spreads out ev'ry fiow'r ! 
Annu.il, for me, the grape, the rose renew 
The juice neerareous, and the balmy dew ; 
For me, the mine a thousand treasures brings ; 



Forme, health gushes from a thousand springs, 
^th. 



Eth. Ep, I. ver. tSC 



ON A FLOWER GARDEN. 119 

tfiey hang around the heavens, act the part of a shifting screen, 
and defend us, by their seasonable interposition, from the 
scorching beams of Summer. May we not also regard them, 
as the great watering-pots of the globe ; which, wafted on the 
wing's of the wind, dispense their moisture evenly through the 
universal garden;* and fructify with their showers, whatever 
our h. nd plants— The fields are our exhaustless granary. — 
The ocean is our vast reservoir. — The animals spend their 
strength, to dispatch our business ; resign their clothing, to 
replenish our wardrobe ; and surrender their very lives, to 
provide for our tables. — In short, every element is a store- 
house of conveniences; every season brings us the choicest 
productions ; all nature is our caterer. — And, which is a most 
endearing recommendation of these favours, they are air as 
lovely as they are useful. You observe nothing mean or inele- 
gant. All is clad in beauty's fairest robe, f and regulated by 
proportion's nicest rule. The whole scene exhibits a fund of 
pleasures to the imagination, at the same time that it more 
than supplies all our wants?, 

* Tlds circumstance, amidst abundance of other delicate and edifying re- 
marks upon the wonders -of Xature, is finely touched in the philosophical 
transactions recorded in the book of Job, chap, xxxviii. ver. 15. " Who hath 
divided a water-course for the overflowing of waters?*' 

The Hebrew is so pregnant and rich with sense, that no translation can 
do it justice. The foliov, big paraphrase, perhaps, may represent the princi- 
pal ideas comprehended ii± me expressive original.— Who has branched our, 
and with admirable judgment disposed a variety of aqueducts, for that im- 
mense collection of waters which float in the sky? "Who distributes those 
pendulous floods through all the borders of the earth ? distributes them, not 
in dreadful cataracts, or promiscuous gluts of rain, but hi kindly drops, and 
refreshing showers ; with as much regularity and ceconomy, as if they were 
conveyed by pipes from a conduit ?— To whom shall we ascribe that niceness 
of contrivance, which now emits, now restrains them ; sometimes drives their 
humid train to one place, sometimes to another ; dispenses them to this soil 
in larger, to that in smaller communications; and, in a word, so manages the 
mighty fluid, that every spot is supplied, in exact proportion to its wants ; 
none destroyed by an undistinguishing deluge ? 

t Perhaps it was from such an observation, that the Greeks, those critical 
and refined judges of things, expressed the mundane system by a wortL 
which signifies beauty. 

X " Those several living creatures, which are made for our service or sus- 
" tenance, at the same time either fill the woods with their music, furnish us 
" with game, or raise pleasing ideas in us by the deligbtfulness of their ap- 
'" pearance. Fountains, lakes,and rivers, are as refreshing to the imagination, 
; ' as to tee soil through which they past*' Spec*, vei. V. Ng. 3$T. 



120 REFLECTIONS 

Therefore thou art inexcusable, O man ! whosoever thou 
art, that rebellest against thy Maker, He surrounds thee with 
unnumbered benefits, and follows thee with an effusion of the 
richest, noblest gifts. He courts thy affections, he solicits thy 
gratitude, by liberalities which are never intermitted, by a 
bounty which knows no limits. — Most blessed Lord, let this 
thy goodness, thy unwearied goodness, lead us to repentance. 
Win us to thyself, thou fountain of felicity, by these sweet 
inducements. Draw us to our duty, thou God of our salva- 
tion, by these " cords of love." 

What a lively picture is here of the beneficial effects of in- 
dustry ! By industry and cultivation, this neat spot is an image 
of Eden. Here is all that can entertain the eye, or regale 
the smell.* Whereas, without cultivation, this sweet garden 
had been a desolate wilderness. Vile thistles had made it 
loathsome, and tangling briers inaccessible. Without cultiva- 
tion, it might have been a nest for serpents, and the horrid 
haunt of venemous creatures. But the spade and pruning 
knife, in the hand of industry, have improved it into a sort of 
terrestrial paradise. 

How naturally does this lead our contemplation to the ad- 
vantages which flow from a virtuous education, and the mise- 
ries which ensue from the neglect of it If — The mind, with- 
out early instruction, will, in all probability, become like the 
'* vineyard of the sluggard." If left to the propensities of its 
own depraved will, what can we expect, but the most luxuri- 
ant growth of unruly appetites, which, in time, will break 
forth into all manner of scandalous irregularities? What ! — 
but that anger, like a prickly thorn, arm the temper with an 
untractable moroseness ; peevishness, like a stinging nettle, 
render the conversation irksome and forbidding ; avarice, like 
some choking weed, teach the fingers to gripe, and the hands 
to oppress ; revenge, like some poisonous plant, replete with 
baneful juices, rankle in the breast, and meditate mischief to 
its neighbour: while unbridled lusts, like swarms of noisome 
insects, taint each rising thought ! and render " even imagi- 
nation of the heart, only evil continually " — Such are the usual 
products of savage nature ! such the furniture of the uncul- 
tivated soul ! 



* Oinnis copia narium. " ■ ■ ■ ■ Hor. 

t Negtectfc ureuda fiiix innajcitur agris,- 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 121 

Whereas, let the mimd be put under the " nurture and ad- 
monition of the Lord ;" let holy discipline clear the soil ; let 
sacred instructions sow it with the best seed ; let skill and vi- 
gilance dress the rising 1 shoots, direct the young 1 ideas how 
to spread, the wayward passions how to move : — Then, what a 
different state of the inner man will quickly take place ! Chari- 
ty will breathe her sweets, and Hope expand her blossoms ? 
the personal virtues display their graces, and the social ones 
their fruits;* the sentiments become generous, the carriage 
endearing, the life honourable and useful, j 

O! that governors of families, and masters of schools, would 
watch, with a conscientious solicitude, over the morals of 
their tender charge ! What pity it is, that the advancing gene- 
ration should lose these invaluable endowments, through any 
supineness in their instructors ! — See ! with what assiduity 
the curious florist attends his little nursery ! He visits them 
early and late ; furnishes them with theproperest mold; sup- 
plies them with seasonable moisture ; guards them from the 
ravages of insects ; screens them from the injuries of the wea- 
ther; marks their springing buds ; observes them attentively, 
through 'their whole progress ,- and never intermits his anxiety, 
till he beholds them blown into full perfection. — And shall a 
range of painted leaves, which flourish to-day, and to-morrow 
fall to the ground ; — shall these be tended with more zealous 
application, than the exalted faculties of an immortal soul? 

Yet trust not in cultivation alone. It is the blessing of the 
Almighty Husbandman which imparts success to such la- 
bours of love.. If God " seal up the bottles of heaven," and 
" command the clouds to withhold their fatness, the best 
mauured plot becomes a barren desert. And if he restrain 
the dew of his heavenly benediction, all human endeavours mis- 

* This transformation of the heart, and renewal of the life, are represent- 
ed, in scripture, by similitudes very nearly allied to the images used above. 
God, by his sanctifying Spirit, will make the soul as a watered garden. 
Under the operation of this divine principle, the desert shall rejoice, and 
blossom as the rose. Where-cver it exerts the refining and ennobling en- 
ergy, " instead of the thom, shall come up the fir-tree ; and instead of the 
brier, the myrtle-tree." Jer. xxxi. 12, Isa. xxxv. 1. and lv. 13. 

t A teneris assuescere tanti est .' Virg. 

The principles we imbibe, and the habits we contract, in our early years, 
are not matters of small moment, but of the utmost consequence imagina- 
ble. They not only give a transient or superficial tincture to our first ap- 
pearance in life, but most commonly stamp the form of our whole future 
conduct, and even of our eternal state. 
Vol. I. L 



122 REFLECTIONS 

carry ; the rational plantation languishes ; our most pregnant 
hopes, from youths of the most promising genius, prove abor- 
tive. " Their root will be as rottenness, and their blossom will 
go up as dust." * — Therefore let parents plant ; let tutors wa- 
ter ; but let both look up to the Father of spirits, for the desir- 
ed increase. 

On every side, I espy several budding flowers. As yet 
they are like bales of cloth from the packer's warehouse. 
Each is wrapt within a strong inclosure, and its contents are 
tied together by the firmest bandages ; so that all their beau- 
ties lie concealed, and all their sweets are locked up — Just 
such is the niggardly wretch, whose aims are all turned in- 
ward, and meanly terminated upon himself; who makes his 
own private interests, or personal pleasures, the sole centre 
of his designs, and the scanty circumference of his actions. 

Ere long the searching beams will open these silken folds, 
and draw them into a graceful expansion. Then what a love- 
ly blush will glow in their cheeks ; and what a balmy odour 
exhale from their bosoms !— So, when divine grace shines 
upon the mind, even the churl becomes bountiful ; the heart 
of stone is taken away ; and a heart of flesh, a heart suscep- 
tible of the softest, most compassionate emotions, is intro- 
duced in its stead. O ! how sweetly do the social affections 
dilate themselves, under so benign an influence ! just like 
these disclosing gems, under the powerful eye of day. The 
tender regards are no longer confined to a single object, but 
extend themselves into a generous concern for mankind, and 
shed liberal refreshments on all within their reach .f 

Arise then, thou Sun of righteousness ; arise, with healing 
under thy wings ; and transfuse thy gentle, but penetrating ray, 
through all our intellectual powers ? Enlarge every narrow dis- 



t The prophet, describing the charitable temper, very beautifully says, if 
thou draw out thy soul to the hungry !— This, I think, may not improperly 
be illustrated by the circumstances observed above. The opening of tliase 
buds into a large and extensive spread, is a pretty portrait of the ampli- 
tude of a generous heart ; which cannot shut up its compassion, or remain 
unconcerned at any human calamity. The freeness and copiousness, with 
which the expanded flowers are continually pouring out their choicest es- 
sences, may represent the various acts of an unwearied liberality ; together 
with those endearing words, and that cordial a'Fection. which embalm, as 
it were, a gift, double its value ; and constitute what the sacred penman 
styles, Drawing out the soul. Deprompseris animam tuani. Isa, lviii. 10. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 135 

position, and fill us with a diffusive benevolence. Make room 
in our breasts for the whole human race ; and teach us to 
love all our fellow -creatures, for their amiable Creator's sake. 
May we be pleased with their excellencies, and rejoice in 
their happiness ; but feel their miseries as our own, and, 
with a brother's sympathy, hasten to relieve them ! 

Disposed at proper distances, I observe a range of strong 
and stately stalks. They stand. like towers along the walls of 
a fortified city ; or rise, like lofty spires, amidst the group of 
houses. They part, at the top, into several pensile spiky pods ; 
from each of which we shall soon see a fine fiigure displaying 
itself; rounded into a form, -which constitutes a perfect cir- 
cle ; spread wide open, into the most frank and communica- 
tive air; and tinged with the colour, which is so peculiarly 
captivating to the miser's eye. 

But the property I chiefly admire, is its passionate fondness 
for the sun. When the evening shades take place, the poor 
flower droops, and folds up its leaves. It mourns all the night, 
and pines amidst the gloom, like some forlorn lever, banished 
from the object of his affections. No sooner does Providence 
open " the eye-lids of the morning," but it mefts and wel- 
comes the returning light;* courts and caresses it, all the 
day ; nor ever loses sight of the refulgent charmer, so long as 
he -continues above the horizon. — In the morning, you may 
perceive it representing a golden bosom to the East ; at noon, 
it points upward to the middle sky ; in the evening, follows 
the same attractive influence to the West. 

Surelyy Nature is a book, and every page rich with sacred 
hints. To an attentive mind, the garden turns preacher, and 
its blooming tenants are so many lively sermons What an 
engaging pattern, and what an excellent lesson, have we here ! 
—•So, let the redeemed of the Lord look unto Jesus,f- and be 
conformed to their beloved. Let us all be Heliotropes (if I 
may use the expression) to the Sun of righteousness. Let 
our passions rise and fall ; take this course or that ; as his 
word determines, as his holy example guides. Let us be so 
accommodated, both to his commanding and providential will, 
as the wax is turned to the imprinted seal; or as the aspect 
of this enamoured flower, to the splendid star, which cre« 
ates, our day. 

* ■ " ' Ilia suum, quamvis radice tenetur, 
Vertitur ad solera ' Ovid. 



iU REFLECTIONS 

In every enjoyment, O thou watchful Christian, look unto 
Jesus ; receive it as proceeding- from his love, and purchased 
by his agonies.*— -In every tribulation look unto Jesus ; mark 
his gracious hand, managing- the scourge, or mingling the bit- 
ter cup ; attempering it to a proper degree of severity ; ad- 
justing the time of its continuance ; and ready to make these 
seeming disasters productive of real g'6od — In every infirmity 
and failing, look unto Jesus, thy merciful High Priest, plead- 
ing his atoning blood, and making intercession for transgres- 
sors.— Ill every prayer look unto Jesus, thy prevailing Advo- 
cate, recommending thy devotions, and " bearing the iniqui- 
ty of thy holy things/' * — In every temptation look unto Jesus, 
the Author of thy strength, and Captain of thy salvation ; 
who alone is able to lift, up the hands which hang down, to in- 
vigorate the enfeebled knees, and make thee more than con- 
queror over all thy enemies. — But especially, when the hour 
of thy departure approaches ; when " thy flesh and thy heart 
fail;" when all the* springs, of life are irreparably breaking ; 
then look unto Jesus with a believing* tj*4 Like expiring Ste- 
phen, behold him standing at the right-hand of God, on pur- 
pose to succour his people, in this their last extremity. Yes, 
my Christian friend ; when thy journey through life is finish- 
ed, and thou art arrived on the very verge of mortality; when 
thou art just launching out into the invisible world, and all 
before thee is vast eternity ; — then, O then, be sure to look 
steadfastly unto Jesus ! " See by faith the Lord's Christ.'* 
View him as the only Way, II to the everlasting mansions ; as 
the only Door,§ to the abodes of bliss. 

Yonder tree, which faces the South, has something too re- 
markable, to pass without observation. — Like the fruitful, 
though feeble vine, she brings forth a large family of bran- 
ches ; but unable to support them herself, commits them to 
the tuition of a sunny wall. As yet the tender twigs have 
scarce gemmed their future blossoms. However, I may an- 
ticipate the well-known productions, and picture to myself 
the passion-flower; which will, in due time, with a long and 
copious succession, adorn the boughs. 

* He sunk beneath our heavy woes, 

To raise us to Ins throne: 
There's not a gift his hand bestows, 

But cost his heart a groan. Watt's 

t Exod. xxviii. 38. 
% Look anto me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth. Isa. \\\. H3 
{I John xiv. 6. [ § John x. 9. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN, 123 

I have read in a Latin author, of flowers inscribed with the 
names of king's :* but here is one emblazoned with the marks 
of the bleeding- Prince of life. I read, in the inspired writings, 
of apostolic men, who bore about in their bodies, the dying* 
of the Lord Jesus :f but here is a blooming- relig-ioso, that 
carries apparent memorials of the same tremendous and fatal 
catastrophe. — Who would have expected to find such a tragedy 
of woe exhibited in a collection of the most delicate delights ? 
or to see Calvary's horrid scene portrayed on the softest or- 
naments of the g-arden ? Is nature then actuated by the noble 
ambition of paying- commemorative honours to her agonizing 
Sovereign ? Is she kindly officious to remind forgetful mortals 
of that miracle of mercy, which it is their duty to contemplate, 
and their happiness to believe ? — Or, is a sportive imagination 
my interpreter ; and all the supposed resemblance no more 
than the precarious gloss of fancy? Be it so : Yet even fancy 
has her merit, when she sets forth, in such pleasing image-, 
ry, the crucified Jesus. Nor shall I refuse a willing regard 
to imagination herself, when she employs her creative powers 
to revive the sense of such unparalleled love, and prompt rny 
gratitude to so divine a friend 

That spiral tendril* arising from the bottom of the stalk? 
is it a representation of the scourge, which lashed the Redeem- 
er's unspotted flesh ; and inflicted those stripes, by which our 
souls are healed ? Or, is it twisted for the cord, which bound his 
hands in painful and ignominious confinement ; those beneficent 
hands, which were incessantly stretched out to unloose the hea- 
vy burdens, and to impart blessings of every choice kind ? Be- 
hold the nails, which were drenched in his sacred veins, and 
rivetted his feet to the accursed tree ; those beautiful £ feet, 
which always went about doing good ; and travelled far and 
near, to spread the glad tidings of everlasting salvation. — See 
the hammer, ponderous and massy, which drove the rugged 
irons through the shivering nerves ; and forced a passage for 
those dreadful wedges, between the dislocated bones.— View 
the thorns, which incircled our Royal Master's brow, and shot 
their keen afflictive points into his blessed head. O the smart ! 
the racking smart ! when, instead of the triumphal laurel or 

* Die, quibus in tends inscripti nomina regum 

Nascantur flores ? ■ ■ — Virg, 
t 2 Cor, iv 10. 

\ How beautiful are the feet of him that bringethgood tidings, that pub- 
lisheth peace, that briugeth good tidings of good, that pubJishtth salvation !" 
Isa.-lii.7i, 

L2 



126 REFLECTIONS 

the odoriferous garland, that pungent and ragged wreath 
was planted on the meek Messiah's forehead ! when violent 
and barbarous blows of the strong Eastern cane, * struck the 
prickly crown, and fixed every thurn deep in his throbbing 
temples ! f— There stand the disciples, ranged in the green 
impalement, and forming a circle round the instruments of 
their great Commander's death. They appear like so many 
faithful adherents, who breathe a gallant resolution, either of 
defending their Lord to the last extremity, or of dropping 
honourably by his side. But did they give such proofs of zeal 
and fidelity in their conduct, as their steady posture, and de- 
termined aspect, seem to promise ? Alas ! what is all human 
firmness, when destitute of succours from above, but an ex- 
piring vapour ? What is every saint, if unsupported by pow- 
erful grace, but an abandoned traitor ? — Observe the glory, 
delineated in double rays, grand with imperial purple, and 
rich with aethereal blue. But ah ! how incapable are threads, 
though spun by Summer's finest hand, though dyed in snows, 
or dipped in heaven, to display the immaculate excellency of 
his human, or the ineffable majesty of his divine nature ! 
Compared with these sublime perfections, the most vivid 
assemblage of colours fades into an unmeaning flatness'; the 
most charming effects of light and shade are not only mere 
daubrngs, but an absolute blank. 

Among all the beauties which shine in sunny rubes, and 
sipthe silver dews, this, I think, has the noblest import, if not 
the finest presence. Were they all to pass in review, and ex- 

* They took the reed, (says the sacred historian), and smote him on 
the head ; " and so, as it were, nailed down the thorns into his forehead, 
" and temples, and occasioned thereby exquisite pain, as well as a great 
M effusion of blood." Family-expositor, vol. II. sect. 188.—" It is most proba- 
" ble," adds the same judicious critic, " this was a walking-staff, which they 
" put into his hand as a sceptre; for a blow with a slight reed would scarce 
'' nave been felt, or have deserved a mention in, a detail of such dreadful 
4i sufferings." 

t The smart attending this unparalleled piece of contempt and barbari- 
ty, must be inexpressibly severe ; not only on account of the many painful 
punctures made m the flesh, but principally, because the periosteum, and 
exquisitely sensible tegument of the bones, lying, in those parts, very near 
the external skin, must receive a multidude of terrible wounds : The an- 
guish of which could not fail of being inflamed to au excess of rage, by the 
continuance of so many thorny lancets in that extremely tender mem- 
brane ; which, in such a case, 

—tremblingly alive all o'er, 
Must smart and agonize at eVry pore. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN, Ut 

pect the award of superiority from my decision, I should not 
hesitate a moment. Be the prize assigned to this amiable 
candidate, which has so eminently distinguished, and so high- 
ly dignitied herself, by bearing such a remarkable resem- 
blance to " the righteous Branch ; the Plant of Renown." * 
While others appoint it a place in the parterre, I would trans- 
plant the passion-flower, or rather transfer its sacred signifi- 
cancy, to my heart. There let it bloom, both in Summer and 
in Winter ; bloom in the most impressive characters, and 
with an undecaying lustre : That I also may wear, — wear on 
my very soul, the traces of Immanuel, pierced for my sins, 
and bruised for my transgressions : That I also may be cruci- 
fied with Christ,f at least in penitential remorse, and affec- 
tionate sympathy : That I may know the fellowship of his 
sufferings ;4 and feel all my evil affections, wounded by his 
agonies, mortified by his death. 

There is another subject of the verdant kingdom, which, 
on account of its very uncommon qualities, demands my par- 
ticular notice : One, so extremely diffident in her disposition, 
and delicate in her constitution, that she dares not venture 
herself abroad in the open air, but is nursed up in the warmth 
of a hot-bed, and lives cloistered in the cells of a green-house. 
But the most curious peculiarity is, that, of all her kindred 
species, she alone partakes of perceptive life ; at least advan- 
ces nearest to this more exalted state of being, and may be 
looked upon as the link which connects the animal and vege- 
table world. A stranger, obser/ing her motions, would al- 
most be induced to suspect, that she is endued with some 
inferior degrees of consciousness and caution. For, if you of- 
fer to handle this sensitive plant, she immediately takes an 
alarm ; hastily contracts her fibres : and, like a person under 
apprehensions of violence, withdraws from your finger, in a 
kind of precipitate disorder. Perhaps, the beauty of her as- 
pect might be sullied, or the niceness of her texture discom- 
posed, by the human touch. Therefore, like a coy virgin,, 
she recedes from all unbecoming familiarities ; and will admit 
no such improper, if not pernicious, freedoms. 

Whatever be the cause of this unusual effect, it suggests 
an instructive admonition to the Christian. Such should be our 
apprehensive timorous care, with regard to sin, and all, even 
the most distant, approaches of vice. So should we avoid the 

* So tlie blessed Jesus is described, Jer. xx. iii. 5. Ezek* xxxiv. 2°, 
t Gal. ii. 2^- * Phil. ui. 1(H 



128 REFLECTIONS 

very appearance of evil, and stand aloof from every occasion 
of falling. — If sinners entice, if forbidden pleasures tempt, or 
if opportunity beckon, with the gain of injustice in her hand ; 
O ! turn from the gilded snare, touch not the beauteous bane ; 
but fly, fly with haste, fly without any delay, from the bewitch- 
ing ruin. — Does Anger draw near with her lighted torch, to 
kindle the flame of resentment in our breasts I does Flattery 
ply our ears, with her inchanting whispers ? would Discon- 
tent lay her leaden hand upon our temper, and mould into our 
minds her sour leaven, in order to make us a burden to our- 
selves, and unamiable to others ? Instantly let us divert our 
attention from the dangerous objects ; and not so much en- 
deavour to antidote, as to shun, the moral contagion. Let us 
revolve in our meditations, that wonderful meekness of our 
distressed Master, which, amidst the most abusive and pro- 
voking insults, maintained an uniform tenor of unshaken se- 
renity. Let us contemplate that prodigious humiliation, which 
brought him, from an infinite height above all worlds, to make 
his bed in the dust of earth. Let us soothe our jarring, our 
uneasy passions, with the remembrance of that cheerfulness 
and resignation, which rendered him, in the deepest poverty 
unfeignedly thankful ; and, under the heaviest tribulations, 
most submissively patient. 

Harbour not, on any consideration, the betrayer of your 
virtue. Always maintain a holy sensibility of soul. Be deaf, 
inflexibly deaf, to every beguiling solicitation. If it obtrude 
into the unguarded heart, give it entertainment, no, not for a 
moment. To parley with the enemy, is to open a door for 
destruction. Our safety consists in flight; and, in this case, 
suspicion is the truest prudence; fear, the greatest bravery. — 
Play not on the brink of the precipice. Flutter not round the 
edges of the flame. Dally not with the stings of death. But 
reject, with a becoming mixture of solicitude and abhorrence, 
the very first insinuations of iniquity ; as cautiously, as the 
smarting sore shrinks even from the softest hand; as constant- 
ly, as this jealous plant recoils at the approaching touch.* 

* The prophet Isaiah, in an elegant and lively description of the up- 
right man, says, He shaketh his hands from holding of bnlies : mid. I may 
add, from practising anv kind of iniquity. The ima^e. exceedingly beau- 
tiful, and equallv expressiv, hoth illustrates and enforces th. doctrine of 
this whole section.— Shaketh his ha..ds ; just as a person would do, who hap- 
pens to liave burning coals fall into his lap, or some venemous creature fas- 
tening upon his flesh. In such a case, none « ould stand a moment to con- 
sider, or to debate with himself the expediency oi* the thing. He would in- 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 129 

Not long ago, these curious productions, of the Spring 
were coarse and mis-shapen roots. Had we opened the earth, 
and beheld them in their seed, how uncouth and con- 
temptible had their appearance been! — But now they are 
the boast of nature, the delight of the sons of men , finish- 
ed for patterns for enamelling and embroidery, outshining even 
the happiest strokes of the pencil. They are taught to bloom, 
but with -a very inferior lustre,* in the richest tapestries, and 
most magnificent siiks. Art never attempts to equal their in- 
comparable elegancies ; but places all her merit, in copying 
after these delicate originals. Even those who glitter in silver, 
or whose clothing is of wrought gold, are desirous to borrow 
additional ornaments, from a sprig of jessamine, or a little as- 
semblage of pinks. 

What a fine idea may we form, from hence, of the resurrection 
of the just, and the state of their reanimated bodies ! As the 
roots even of our choicest flowers, when deposited in the 
ground, are rude and ungraceful ;- but, when the}' spring up 
into blooming life, are most elegant and splendid ; so the 
flesh of a saint, when committed to the dust, alas ! what is it ? 
A heap of corruption ; a mass of putrefying clay. But, when 
it obeys the great Archangel's call, and starts into a new ex- 
istence ; what an astonishing change ensues ! what a most en- 
nobling-improvement takes place ? — That which was sown in 
weakness, is raised in all the vivacity of power. That which 
was sown in deformity, is raised in the bloom of celestial beau- 
ty. Exalted, refined, and glorified, it will shine " as the bright- 
ness of the firmament," w r hen it darts the inimitable blue, 
through the fleeces — the snowy fleeces of some cleaving cloud, 

stantly fiing off the pevniciou> incumbrance ; instantly endeavour to disen- 
gage himself from the clinging mischief. — Is. xxxiii. 1 5. 

I have represented the danger of not extinguishing immediately the very 
first sparks of temptation, in a variety of views. Because a proper beha- 
viour, in this conjuncture, is of such vast importance to the purity, the 
safety, and the comfort of our minds.— Because I had the royal moralist 
in my eye ; who, dttcrring his pupils from the path of the wicked, cries 
with an air of deep concern, and in the language of vehement importunity, ■ 
cries, Avoid it; pass not by it; turn from it; and pass away. How strongly 
is the counsel urg-ed, by being so frequently repeated ; in such a remarka- 
ble diversity of concise and abrupt, consequently of forcible and pressing 
admonitions I Prov. iv. 15. 

* The cpwslip smiles in brighter yellow drest. 

Than that which veils the nubil virgin's bivast: 
' A fairer red stands blushing in the rose, 
Than that which on the brideerroom's vestments flow*. 



130 REFLECTIONS 

Fear not, then, thou faithful Christian ; fear not, at the 
appointed time, to descend into the tomb. Thy soul thou may- 
est trust with thy omnipotent Redeemer, who is Lord of the 
unseen world ; " who has the keys of hell, and of death." Most 
safely mayest thou truse thy better part, in these beneficent 
hands, which were pierced with nails, and fastened to the ig- 
nominious tree, for thy salvation — With regard to thy earthly 
tabernacle, be not dismayed. It is taken down, only to be re- 
built upon a diviner plan, and in a more heavenly form. If it re- 
tires into the shadow of death, and lies immured in the gloom 
of the grave ; it is only to return, from a short confinement, 
to endless liberty. If it falls into dissolution, it is in order to 
rise more illustrious from its ruins ; and wear an infinitely 
brighter face of perfection, and of glory.* 

Having now made my penegyric, let me, next, take up a 
lamentation, for these loveliest productions of the vegetable 
world.— For I foresee their approaching doom. Yet a little 
while, and all these pleasing scenes vanish Yet a little while, 
and all the sweets of the breathing, all the beauties of the 
blooming Spring, are no more. Every one of these amiable 
forms must be shrivelled to deformity, and trodden to the 
earth — Significant resemblance this of all created beauty. 
All flesh is grass ; like the green herbage, liable and prone to 
fade. Nay, all the goodliness thereof, its finest accomplish- 
ments, and what the world universally admires, is as the flow- 
er of the field, f which loses its gloss, decays and perishes, 
more speedily than the grass itself.— Behold then, ye bright- 
est among the daughters of Eve ; behold yourselves, in this 
glass. See the charms of your person eclipsed, by the lustre 
of these little flowers, and the frailty of your state represent- 
ed, t by their transient glories. A fever may scorch those po- 
lished veins ; a consumption may emaciate the dimpling 
cheeks j and a load of unexpected sorrows depress those live- 
ly spirits. Or should these disasters, in pity, spare the" tender 
frame ; yet age, inexorable age and wrinkles, will assuredly 
come at last ; will wither all the fine features, and blast every 
sprightly grace. 

* The wise, the just, the pious, and the brave, 
Live in their deatlis, and flourish from the grave. 
Grain hid in earth, repays the peasant's care, 
And ev'ning smis but set to rise more fair. 

t Isa. xi. 6. 

> t The reader will excuse me, If I imitate, rather than translath the beau, 
tiful lines from Theocritus ; if I vary one image, add another, and give ft new 
turn to the whole. 



OK A FLOWER-GARDEN. 131 

Then, ye fair, when those sparkling eyes are darkened, and 
sink in their orbs ; when they are rolling in agonies, or swim- 
ming in death; how will you sustain the affliction ? how will 
you repair the loss? — Apply your thoughts to religion. At- 
tend to the one thing needful Believe in, and imitate, the 
blessed Jesus. Then shall your souls mount up to the realms 
of happiness, when the well-proportioned clay is mingling with, 
its mean original. The light of God's countenance will irra- 
diate, with matchless and consummate perfection, all their 
exalted faculties. Cleansed entirely from every dreg of cor- 
ruption, like some unsullied mirror, they will reflect the com- 
plete image of their Creator's holiness.— O ! that you would 
thus dress your minds, and prepare for the immortal state ! 
Then from shining amongy our fellow creatures on earth, you 
shall be translated, to shine around the throne of God Then, 
from being the sweeteners of our life, and the delight of our 
eyes here below, you shall pass, by an easy transition, into an- 
gels of light; and become " an everlasting excellency, the joy 
" of all generations." 



When snows descend, and robe the fields 

In winter's bright array ; 
Touch'd by the sin, the lustre fades, 

And weeps itself away. 

When Spring appears ; when violets blow, 

And shed a rieh perfume ; 
How soon the fragrance breaths its last ! 

How short-liv'd is the bloom ! 

Fresh in the morn, the Summer-rose 
Hangs withering ere 'tis noon ; 

We scarce enjoy the balmy gift, 
But mourn the pleasure 'gone'. 

With gliding fire, an ev'ning stars 

Streaks the autumnal skies ; 
Shookirom the sphere, it darts away, 

And. in an instant, dies, 

Such are the charms that flush the cheek, 

And sparkle in the eve : 
SO, from the lovely finish'd form 

The transient graces fly. 

To this the Seasons, as they roll, 

Their attestation bring t 
They warm the fair ; their ev'ry roimd 

Confirms the troth I sing. 



132 REFLECTIONS 

yes ; ye flowery nations, ye must all decay. — Yonder lily, 
that looks like the queen of the gay creation. — See, how grace- 
fully it erects its majestic head ! What an air of dignity and 
grandeur ennobles its aspect ? For elevated mien, as well as 
for incomparable lustre, justly may it be preferred to the mag- 
nificent monarch of the East.* But, all stately and charming 
as it is, it will hardly survive a few more days. That unspot- 
ted whiteness must quickly be tarnished, and the snowy form 
defiled in the dust. 

As the lily pleases, with the noble simplicity of its appear- 
ance ; the tulip is admired, for the gaiety and multiplicity of 
its colours. Never was a cup either painted, or enamelled, with 
such a profusion of dyes. Its tinges are so glowing, its con- 
trasts so strong; and the arrangement of them both so elegant 
and artful !— It was lately the pride of the border, and the 
reigning beauty of the delightful season ; as exquisitely fine as 
the rainbow, and almost as extremely transient. It spreads, 
for a little moment, its glittering plumage ; but has, now, laid 
all its variegated and superior honours down. Those radiant 
stripes are blended, alas ! rudely blended with common mold. 

To a graceful shape, and blooming complexion, the rose 
adds the most agreeable perfume. Our nostrils make it re- 
peated visits, and are never weary of drinking in its sweets. 
A fragrance, so peculiarly rich and reviving, transpires from 
its opening tufts, that every one covets its acquaintance. How 
have I seeneven the accomplished Cbarisa, for whom so many 
votaries languish, fondly caressing this little flower ! That 
lovely bosom, which is the seat of innocence and virtue ; 
whose least excellency it is, to rival the delicacy of the purest 
snows ; among a thousand charms of its own, thinks it possi- 
ble to adopt another from the damask rose-bud. — Yet, even 
this universal favourite must fail. Its native balm cannot pre- 
serve it from putrefaction. Soon, soon must it resign all those 
endearing qualities ; and hang neglected on its stem, or drop 
despised to the ground. 

One could wish, methinks, these most amiable of the inan- 
imate race, a longer existence : but in vain. They fade, almost 
as soon as they flourish. Within less than a month, their glo- 
ries are extinct. Let the sun take a few more journeys through 
the sky ; then visit this inchanting walk ; and you will find no- 
thing but a wretched wilderness of ragged or naked stalks. — 
But (my soul exults in the thought) the garment of celestial 
glory, which shall ere long array the re-animated body, will 

* Matth. ri. 59. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 1S5 

never was old. The illustrious robes of a Saviour's consum- 
mate righteousness, which even now adorn the justified spi- 
rit, are incorruptible and irr mortal. No moth can corrode 
their texture ; no number of ages sully their brightness. 
The light of day may be quenched, and all the stars sink in 
obscurity, but the honours of "just men made perfect/" are 
subject to no diminution. Inextinguishable and unfading is 
the lustre of their crowns. 

Yes ; ye flowery nations, ye must all decay —Winter, like 
some enraged and irresistible conqueror that carries fire and 
sword, where ever he advances ; that demolishes towns ; de- 
populates countries ; spreads slaughter and desolation, on eve- 
ry side ; — so, just so, will winter, with his savage and unre- 
lenting blasts, invade this beautiful prospect. The storms are 
gathering, and the tempests mustering their rage, to fall 
upon the vegetable kingdoms. They will ravage through the 
dominions of nature ; and plunder her riches, and lay waste 
her charms — Then, y* trees, must ye stand stript of your 
verdant apparel; and, ye fields, be spoiled of your waving 
treasures. Then, the earth, disrobed of all her gay attire 
must sit in sables, like a disconsolate widow. The sun too, 
who now rides in triumph round the world, and scatter s-gaie- 
ty from his radiant eye, will then look faintly from the win- 
d3ws of the South ; and, casting a short glance on our deject- 
ed world, will leave us to the uncomfortable gloom of tedious 
night. — Then, these pretty choristers of the air will chant no 
more to the gentle gales ; the lark, the linnet, and all the fea- 
thered songsters, abandon their notes, and indulge their woes. 
The harmony of the woods is at an end ; and silence, (unless 
it be interrupted by howling winds) a sullen silence sits brood- 
ing upon the. boughs ; which are now made vocal, by a thou- 
sand warbling throats. 

But, sweet recollection ? ravishing expectation ? the songs 
of saints in light never admit a pause for sadness. All hea- 
ven will resound with the melody of their gratitude ; and all 
eternity echo to their triumphant acclamations. The hallelu- 
jahs of that world, and the harmonious joy of its inhabitants, 
will be as lasting as the divine perfections they celebrate — 
Come then, holy love, and tune my heart; descend, celestial 
fire, and touch my tongue ; that I may stand readv to strike 
up, and bear my part, in that great hosanna, that everlasting 
hymn. 

Yes ; yes ; ye flowery nations, ye must all decay. — And in- 
deed, could you add the strength of an oak, or the stability of 

Vol,' I. M 



134 REFLECTIONS 

a pyramid, * to all the delicacy of your texture ; yet short, ex- 
ceeding- short, even then would your duration be. For I see 
that all thing-s come to an end. The pillars of nature are tot- 
tering-. The foundations of the round world are falling away, 
" The heavens themselves wax old like a garment" — But, 
amidst these views of g-eneral ruin, here is our refuge ; this 
is our consolation ; * We know that our redeemer liveth.' 
Thy years, blessed Jesus, shall not fail. From everlasting to 
everlasting, thou art still the same ; the same most excellent 
and adorable person ; the same omnipotent and faithful friend ; 
the same all-sufficient and inestimable portion. O ! may we 
but partake of thy merits ; be sanctified by thy grace ; and 
received into thy glory ! — Then perish, if ye will, all inferior 
delights. Let all that is splendid in the skies expire ; and all 
that is amiable in nature be expunged. Let the whole extent 
of creation be turned again into one undistinguishable void, 
one universal blank. — Yet, if God be ours, we shall have enough. 
If God be ours, we shall have all and abound ;f all that our cir- 
cumstances can want, or our wishes crave, to make us incon- 
ceivably blessed and happy ; blessed and happy, not only 
through this little interval of time, but through the immea- 
surable revolutions of eternity. 

The sun is now come forth in his strength, and beats fiercely 
upon my throbbing pulse. Let me retire to yonder inviting 
arbour. There the woodbines retain the lucid drop ; there 
the jessamines, which line the verdant alcove, are still impearl- 

* I know not any performance, in -which the transitory nature of these 
most durable monuments of human grandeur, is hinted with such a mo- 
dest air of instruction, or their hideous ruin described in such a no nip of'plea- 
sing horror, as in a small but solemn, picturesque ami ma'i stic poem inti- 
tled The Ruins of Rome, written by the Rev. Mr. Dyer :— Whom the read- 
er (if he has the pleasure of perusmg that beautiful piece) will easily per- 
ceive to have taken his draughts from the originals iheius Ives . as nothing 
but the sight of those magnificent remains, could have inspired his lines 
■with such vivacity.— As a specimen of the work, and a confirmation of the 
remark suggested above, I take leave to transcribe the following passage : 



—The pilgrim oft. 



At dead of night, mid his oraison hears 
Aghast the voice of time, disparting towr"-s, 
Tumbling all precipitate clown dash'd. 
Rattling around, loud thund'ring to the moon. 

+ His hand the good man fast* ns on the skies, 
\nd bids earth roll, »or feels the idle whirl. 

yigfd-Thwsh's. Kif, TV. 



ON A FLOWER-GARDEN. 135 

ed, and deliciously wet with dews. — Welcome, ye refresh- 
ing shades? I feel, I feel your cheering". influence. My lan- 
guid spirits revive ; the slackened sinews are new-strung' ; 
and life bounds brisker through all her crimson channels. 

Reclined on this mossy couch, and surrounded hy this fra- 
grant coolness, let me renew my aspirations to the ever-pre- 
sent Deity. Here let me remember, and imitate, the pious 
Augustine, and his mother Monica; who, being engaged in 
discourse on the beauties of the visible creation, rose by these 
ladders, to the glories of the invisible state ; till they were 
inspired with the most affecting sense of their supereminent 
excellency, and actuated with the most ardent breathings af- 
ter their full enjoyment : Insomuch, that they were almost 
rapt up into the bliss they contemplated; and scarce knew, . 
" whether tlvey were in the body, or out of the body.'' 

When tempests toss the ocean; when plaintive signals of 
distress are heard from the bellowing deep ; and melancholy 
tokens of shipwreck come floating ou the foaming surge ; 
then how delightful to stand safe on shore, and hug one's self 
in conscious security* !->— When a glut of waters bursts from 
some mighty torrent, rushes headlong over all the neighbour- 
ing- plains, sweeps away the helpless cattle, and drives the 
affrighted shepherd from his hut ; then, from the top of a dis- 
tant eminence, to descry the danger we need not fear; how 
pleasing ! — Such, methinks, is my present situation. For now 
the sun blazes from on high : The air glows with fire: The 
fields are rent with chinks : The roads are scorched to dust: 
The woods seem to contract a sickly aspect, and a russet hue : 
The traveller, broiled as he rides, hastens to his inn, and in- 
termits his journey: The labourer, bathed in sw r eat, drops 
the scythe, and desists from his work: The cattle flee to 
some shady covert, or else pant and toss under the burning 
noon. Even the stubborn rock, smit with piercing beams, is 
ready to cleave. All tilings languish beneath the dazzling de- 
luge. — While I shall enjoy a cool hour, and calm reflection, 
amidst the gloom of this bowery recess, which scarce admits 
one speck of sun-shine. 

* As Lucretius gave the hint for these observations, so he assigns the rea- 
son of the pleasure specified. It arises, not from the consideration of 
another's misery ; this would argue the rankest male\ olenee ; but from the 
agreeable contemplation of odr own personal safety; which while we 
view circumstances that are pernicious to others butharmless to ourselves ; 
Is nat a -little heightened by the contrast, Suave mail magna, &e. 



136 REFLECTIONS 

Thus? may both the flock and their shepherd, '* dwell be. 
neath the defence of the Most High, and abide under the 
shadow of the Almighty."* Then, though thef pestilence 
walketh in darkness, and the sickness destroyeth at noon-day ; 
though thousands fall beside us, and ten thousands at our right 
hand ; we need fear no evil. Either the destroying angel shall 
pass over our houses; or else he shall dispense the c 
tions of a friend, not the scourges of an enemy ; which, in- 
stead of hurting us, shall work for our good. — Then, though 
profaneness and infidelity, far more malignant evils, breathe 
deadly contagion, and taint the morals of multitudes around 
us ; yet, if the great Father of spirits " hide us in the hoi. 
low of his hand," we shall hold fast our integrity, and be 
faithful unto death. 

Let then, dealest Lord, O ! let thy servant, and the people 
committed to his care, be received into thy protection. Let 
us take sanctuary under that tree of life, erected in thy igno- 
minious cross. Lot us fly for safety to that city of refuge, open- 
ed in thy bleeding- wounds. These shall be a sacred hiding 
place, not to be pierce 1 by the flames of divine wrath, or the 
fiery darts of temptation. Thy dying merits, and perfect obe- 
dience, shall be to our souls, " as rivers of waters in a dry 
place, or as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land + 

But most of all, in tiiat last tremendous day, when the hea- 
vens are rent asunder, and wrapped up like a scroll ; when 
thy almighty arm shall arrest the sun in his career, and dash 
to pieces the structure of the universe ; when the dead, both 
small and great, shall be. gathered before the throne of thy 
glory; and the fates of all mankind hang on the very point of 
a final irreversible decision : — Then, blessed Jesus, let us be 
owned by thee, and we shall not be ashamed ; defended by 
thee, and we shall not be afraid. O ! may we, at that awful, 
that unutterably important juncture, be covered with the 
wings of thy redeeming love, and we shall behold all the hor- 
rible convulsions of expiring nature, with composure, with 
comfort! We shall even welcome the dissolution of all things, 
ss the " times of refreshing from the presence of the Lord.' , || 

There are, I perceive, who still attend the flowers ; and, 
in defiance of the sun, ply their work on every expanded blos- 
som. The bees I mean ; that nation of chy mists ! to whom 

•Psal. xci. I. 

t Tills was written, when a very infectious and mortal distemper raged 
in the neighbourhood. 

t. I<a. xxxii. 2: lj Acts iii. l->. 



ON A FLOWER-GAHDEN. 137 

nature has communicated the rare and valuable secret, of en« 
riching themselves, without impoverishing others ; who ex- 
tract the most delicious syrup from every fragrant herb, with- 
out wounding- its substance, or diminishing- its odours. — I take 
the more notice of these ingenious operators, because I would 
willingly make them my pattern.* While the gay butterfly 
flutters her painted wings, and sips a little fantastic delight, 
only for the present moment : while the gloomy spider, worse 
than idly busied, is preparing his insidious nets for destruc- 
tion, or sucking venom even from the most wholesome plants ; 
this frugal community are wisely employed in providing for 
futurity, and collecting a copious stock of the most balmy 
treasures. — And O! might these meditations sink into my 
soul ! would the God, who suggested each heavenly thought, 
vouchsafe to convert it into an established principle, to deter- 
mine all my inclinations, and regulate my whole conduct ! I 
should, then, gather advantages from the same blooming ob- 
jects, more precious than your golden stores, ye industrious 
artists. I also should go home, laden with the richest sw r eets, 
and the noblest spoils ; though I crop not a leaf, nor call a 
single flower my own. 

Here I behold, assembled in one view, almost all the vari- 
ous beauties which have been severally entertaining my ima- 
gination The vistas, struck through an ancient wood, or 
formed by rows of venerable elms; conducting the spectator's 
observation to some remarkable object; or leading the travel- 
lers' footsteps to this delightful seat : — The walls, enriched 
with fruit-trees, and faced with a covering of their leafy ex- 
tensions ; I should /atherhave said hung with different pieces 
of Nature's noblest tapestry :— The walks, neatly shorn, and 
lined with verdure; or finely smoothed, and coated with gra- 
vel : — The alleys arched with shades, to embower our noon- 
tide repose ; or thrown open for the free accession of air, to 
invite us to our evening recreation : The decent edgings of 
box, which inclose, like a plain selvage, each beautiful com- 
partment, and its splendid figures: — The shapely evergreens, 
and flowering shrubs, which strike the eye, and appear with 
peculiar dignity, in this distant situation ; — The bason, with 
its crystal fount, floating in the centre, and diffusing an 
agreeable freshness through the whole : — The waters, falling 

* : Ego apis matinae 

More niodoque. 
Grau carpentis thyina, ' --Her. 

M2 



138 REFLECTIONS 

from a remote cascade, and genily murmuring, as they flow 
along the pebbles :— These added to the rest ; and so dispos- 
ed, that each recommends and endears each, render the 
whole a most sweet ravishing scene, of order and variety, of 
elegance and magnificence. 

From so many lovely prospects, clustering upon the sight, 
it is impossible not to be reminded of heaven, that world of 
bliss, those regions of light, where the Lamb that was slain 
manifests his beatific presence, and his saints live tor ever- 
more. — But O ! what pencil can sketch out a draught of that 
goodly land? What colours, or what style, can express the 
splendours of ImmanuePs kingdom ! Would some celestial 
hand draw aside the veil, but for a moment ; and permit us 
to throw a single glance on those divine abodes ; how would 
all sublunary possessions become tarnished in our eyes, and 
grow flat upon our taste ! A glimpse, a transient glimpse of 
those unutterable beatitudes would captivate our souls, and 
ingross all their faculties. Eden itself, alter such a vision, 
would appear a cheerless desert ; and all earthly charms in- 
tolerable deformity. 

Very excellent things are spoken of thee, thou city of God.* 
Volumes have been written, and those by inspired men, to 
display the wonders of thy perfections. All that is rich and 
resplendent in the visible creation, has been called in to aid 
our conceptions, and elevate our ideas. But, indeed, no 
tongue can utter, no pen can describe, no fancy can imagine, 
what God, of his unbounded munificence, has prepared for 
them that love him. — Seeing then that all terrestrial things 
must come to a speedy end ; and there remaineth a rest, a 
blissful and everlasting rest, for the people of God ; let me 
never be too fondly attached to any present satisfactions. 
Weaned from whatever is temporal, may I maintain a superi- 
or indifference for such transitory enjoyments; but long, long 
earnestly, for the mansions that are above ; the paradise, 
" which the Lord hath planted, and not man." Thither may 
I transmit the chief of my conversation ; and from thence ex- 
pect the whole of my happiness. Be that the sacred, power- 
ful magnet, w^hich ever influences my heart, ever attracts my 
affections. There are such transcendent glories, as eye has 
not seen ; there are such transporting pleasures, as ear has 
not heard ; there is such a fulness of joys, as the thought of 
man cannot conceive. 

* Psal. Ixxxvii 2 



ON A FLOWER GARDEN. ISS 

Into that consummate felicity, those eternal fruitions, per- 
mit me, Madam, to wish you, in due time, an abundant en- 
trance ; and to assure you, that this wish is breathed, with 
the same sincerity and ardour, for my hunoured correspond- 
ent, as it is, Madam, for 

Tour most obedient, C-c. 

JAMES HERVEY, 



A DESCANT 

UPON CREATION. 



Witk joy, with grief that healing hand I see; 
The skies it fornid, anil yet it bled for me. 

Night-Thoughts, No. IV. 



IF the reader pleases to look back on page 110, he will 
iind me engaged, by a promissary pote, to subjoin a Descant 
upon Creation. 

To know the love of Christ; to have such a deep appre- 
hension of his unspeakable kindness, as may produce in our 
hearts an adoring gratitude, and an unfeigned faith ; this ac- 
cording to St. Paul's estimate, is the highest and happiest at- 
tainment in the sacred science of Christianity^ What fol- 
lows, is an attempt to assist the attentive mind, in learning a 
line or two of that best and greatest lesson It introduces the 
most, comspicuous parts of the visible system, as so many 
prompters to our dull affections ; each suggesting a hint, adapt- 
ed to the important occasion, and suited to its respective cha- 
racter. 

Can there be a more powerful incentive to devout gratitude, 
than to consider the magnificent and delicate scenes of the 
universe, with a particular reference to Christ, as the Crea- 
tor ! — Every object, viewed in this light, will surely adminis- 
ter incessanc recruits to the languishing lamp of divine love. 
Every production in Nature will strike a spark into the soul ; 
and the whole creation concur to raise the smoaking flax into 
a flame. 

Can any thing impart a stronger joy to the believer, or more 
effectually confirm his faith in the crucified Jesus, than to be- 
hold the heavens declaring his glory, and the firmament shew- 
ing his handy work ? — Surely, it must be matter of inexpressi- 
ble consolation to the poor sinner, to observe the !ior.our3 of 

* Enh, iii. J 9, 



A DESCANT, Sec. 141 

his Redeemed; written with sun-beams, over all the face of 
the world. 

"\Y r e delight to read an account of our incarnate Jehovah, 
is revealed in the books of Moses and the prophets, as 
he is displayed in the writings of the evangelists and apostles. 
Let us also endeavour to see a sketch of his perfections, as 
they stand delineated in that stately volume, where every 
leaf is a spacious plain, — every line a flowing brook, — every 
period, a lofty mountain. 

Should any of my readers be unexercised in such specula- 
tions, I beg leave (in pursuance of my promise) to present 
them with a specimen; or to offer a clue, which may possi- 
bly lead their minds into this most improving and delightful 
train of thinking. 

Should any be inclined to suspect the solidity of the follow- 
ing observations, or to condemn them, as the voice cf rant, 
and the lawdess flight of fancy ; I must entreat such persons 
to recollect, that the grand doctrine, the hinge on which they 
ail turn, is warranted and established by the unanimous tes- 
timony uf the inspired penmen ; who frequently celebrate Im- 
manuel, or Christ Jesus, as the great almighty cause of all; 
assuring us, that " all things were created by him, and. for 
him ; and that in him all things consist."* 

On such a subject, what is wonderful, is far from Being ex- 
travagant. To be wonderful, is the inseparable characteris- 
tic of God and his w.orkc ; especially of that most clistinguish- 
ed and glorious event cf the divine works, redemption ; so 
glorious, " that all the miracles in Egypt, and the marvellous 
" acts in the field of Zoah ; all that the Jewish annals have 
recorded, or the human ear has heard; all dwindle into tri- 
vial events, are scarce worthy to be remembered,-}- in compa- 
rison of this infinitely grand and infinitely gracious transac- 
tion. — Kindled, therefore, into pleasing astonishment, by such 
a survey, let me give full scope to my meditations. Let me 
pour out my whole souk on the boundless subject ; not much 
regarding- the limits, which cold criticism, or colder unbe- 
lief, might prescribe. 

O ye Angels, that surround the throve ; ye. Princes of 
Heaven, "that excel in strength," and are clothed with trans- 
cendent brightness ; He, who placed you in those stations of 
exalted honour, and dignified your nature with such illustri- 
ous endowments ; He, whom you all obey, and all adore : 

* Col. i. 16. 17. Before my reader enters upon the following Deso*at,' 
he is de?ired to persue the note, page 110* 



142 A DESCANT 

He took not on him, the angelic form, but was made flesh, 
and found m fashion as a man. Like us wretched mortals, 
He was subject to weariness, pain, and every other infirmity, 
sin only excepted : — that we might, oi:e d;i\ , be raised to your 
sublime abodes; be adopted into your blissful society; and 
join with your transported choir, in giving- glory to him that 
sitteth upon the throne, and to the Lamb tor ever and ever.* 

O ye heavens, whose azure arches rise immensely high, 
and stretch immeasurably wide; stupendous amphitheatre ! 
amidst Whose vast expansive circuit, orbs of the most dread- 
ful grandeur are perpetually running their amazing races. Un- 
fathomable depths of aether ! where worlds unnumbered float ; 
and, to our limited sight, worlds unnumbered are lost: — He, 
who adjusted your dimensions with his span, and formed the 
magnificent structure with his word; he was once wrapt in 
swadl'mg clot hs, and laid in a manger: — That the benefits 
accruing to his people, through his most meritorious humilia- 
tion, might have no other measure of their value than immen- 
ititj ; migl t i" n parrallel, in their duration with eternity. 

Ye stars, that be am with inextinguishable brilliancy, through 
the midnight sky ; oceans of flame, and centres of worlds, 
though seemingly little points of light! — He, who shone, with 
essential effulgence, innumerable ages, before your twink- 
ling tapers were kindled; and will shine with everlasting ma- 
jesty and beauty, when your places in the firmament shall be 
known no more: he was involved, for many 5 ears, in the 
deepest obscurity* lay concealed in the contemptible city Na- 
zareth ; lay disguised under the mean habit of a carpenter's 
son :— That he might plant the heavens, f as it were, with 
new constellations ; and array these clods of earth, these 
houses of clay, with a radiancy, far superior to yours ; a ra- 
diant y, which will adorn the very heaven of heavens, when 
you shall vanish away like smoke; t or expire, as momentary- 
sparks from the smitten steel. 



* Rev. v. 13. t Isa. li. lti. 

t Alluding to a passage in Lsaiah, which is. I think, grand and dented 
beyond all comparison.— " Lift up your eyes to the heaven^ and look upon 
the earth betfeath : for the heavens shall vanish away like smoke, and the 
earth sh.'Il \\a\ old like a garment, and they that dwell there n shall die 5 ' 
like the feeble in si et : " But tuy righteousness shall be for ever, and my sal- 
vation shall 1101 he abolished," Isa. li. 6.— With the great Vitringa, I trans- 
late it not in like manner, hut like the feeble insect. Which renders the 
period more complete ; the sense more emphatic*! ; and is more agrec&bte 
to Jie genius of the sacred origjaal. 



UPON CREATION. 143 

Comets, that sometimes shoot into the illimitable tracts of 
aether, farther than the discernment of our eye is able to fol- 
low; sometimes return from the long', long excursion, and 
sweep our aflrighted hemisphere with your enormous fiery 
train ; that sometimes make near approaches to the sun, and 
burn almost in his immediate beams ; sometimes- retire 10 the 
""remotest distance, and freeze for ages, in the excessive ri- 
gours of Winter : He who, at hi* sovereign pleasure, with- 
draws the blazing wonder; or leads forth the portentous 
stranger, to shake terror over guilty kingdoms ; he was over- 
whelmed with the most shocking amazement, and plunged 
into the deepest anxiety ; was chilled with apprehensions of 
fear, and scorched by the flames of avenging wrath : — That 
I, and other depraved rebellious creatures, might not be eter- 
nally agitated with the extremes of jarring passions ; oppo- 
site, yet, on either side, tormenting; far more tormenting to 
the soul, than the severest degrees of your heat and cold to 
the human sense. 

Ye planets, that, winged with unimaginable speed, traverse 
the regions of the sky ; sometimes climbing millions and mil- 
lions of miles above, sometimes descending as far below, the 
great axle of your motions : Ye, that are so minutely faithful 
to the vicissitudes of day and night; so exactly punctual in 
bringing on the changes of your respective seasons : — He, 
who launched you, at first, from his mighty arm ; who conti- 
nually impels you with such wonderful rapidity, and guides 
you with such perfect regularity ; who fixes " the habitation 
(i of his holiness and his glory," infinite heights above your 
scanty rounds ; he once became a helpless infant, sojourned 
in our inferior world, fled from the persecutor's sword, and 
wandered as a vagabond in a foreign land, — That he might 
lead our feet into the way of peace; that he might bring us 
aliens near to God, bring us exiles home to heaven. 

Thou sun, iuexausted source of light, and heat, and com- 
fort! without whose presence an universal gloom would en- 
sue, and horror unsupportable ; who, without the assistance 
of any other fire, sheddest day through a thousand realms ; 
and, not confining- thy munificence to realms only, extendeth 
thy enlightening influences to surrounding worlds-, Prime, 
cheerer of the animal, and great enlivener of the vegetable 
tribes ! So beautiful in thyself, so beneficial in thy effects, 
that erring Heathens addressed thee with adoration, and mis- 
took thee for their Maker ! — He, who filed thy orb with a pro- 
fusion of lustre : lustre, iii its direct emanations, unsufferably 
bright, but rebated by reflexion, delightfully mild: — He, 



144 UPON CREATION. 

before -whom thy meridian splendors are but a shade ; whose 
love transfused into the heart, is infinitely more exhilarating-, 
than even the sweet and clear shining- after the rain: — he di- 
vested himself of his all-transcending- distinctions, and drew a 
veil over the effulgence of his divinity ; that, by speaking to 
us, face to face, as a man speaketh unto his friend, he might 
dispel our intellectual darkness. His " visage was marred,"* 
and he became the scorn of men, the outcast of the people ; 
that by this manifestation of his unutterably tender regard 
for our welfare, he might diffuse many a gleam of joy through 
our dejected minds : That, in another state of things, he 
might clothe even our fallen nature, with the honours of that 
magnificent luminary; and give all the righteous to shine forth 
as the sun, in the kingdom of their Fattier. 

Thou moon, that walkest among the host of stars, and, 
in thy lucid appearance, art superior to them all : Fair ruler 
of the night! Sometimes, half-restoring the day, with thy 
waxing brightness; sometimes waning 1 into dimness, and 
scarcely scattering the nocturnal gloom ; sometimes covered 
■with sackcloth, and alarming the gazing nations! — He, who 
dresses thy opaque globe, in beaming, but borrowed silver : 
He, whose dignity is unchangeable, underived, and all his 
own: He vouchsafed to wear a body of clay : He was con- 
tent to appear as in a bloody eclipse, shorn of his resplendent 
beams, and surrounded with a night of horror, which knew 
not one reviving ray — Thus has he impowered his church, 
and all believers, to tread the moon under their feet.f Hence, 
inspired with the hope of brighter glory, and of more endur- 
ing bliss, are they enabled to triumph over all the vain anxi- 
eties, and vainer amusements, of this sublunary, precarious, 
mutable world. 

Ye thunders, that, awfully grumbling in the distant clouds, 
seem to meditate indignation, and form the first essays of a 
far more frightful peal ; or, suddenly bursting over our heads, 
rend the vault above, and shake the ground below, with the 
hideous, horrid crack : Ye, that send your tremendous volleys 
from pole to pole, startling the savage herds,} and astonishing 
the human race : — He, who permits Terror to sound her 
trumpet, in your deep, prolongtd, enlarging, aggravated 
roar:-— He uttered a feeble infimtile cry in the stable, and 
gtrcng expiring groans on the accursed tree I — That he might 
in the gentlest accent?, whisper peace to our souls ; »»d, at 
length, tune our voices to the melody of heaven. 

* I«a. lii. U. t Rev. xii. V 

i P,a1. xs'u . s. 




UPON CREATION. 146 

G ye lightnings, that brood, and lie couchant, in the sulphur 
reous vapours ; that glance, with forked fury, from the an- 
gry gloom, swifter and fiercer than the lion rushes from his 
den ; or open into vast expansive sheets of flame, sublimely 
waved over the prostrate world, and fearfully lingering in the 
frighted skies : Ye, that formerly laid in ashes tiie licentious 
abodes of lust and violence ; that will, ere long, set on fire the 
elements, and co-operate in the conflagration of the globe : — 
He, who kindles your flash, and directs you when to sally, and 
where to strike :— He, who commissions your whirling bolts, 
whom to kill, and whom to spare : — He resigned his sacred 
person to the most barbarous indignities ; submitted his be- 
neficent hands to the ponderous hammer, and the piercing- 
nail ; yea, withheld not his heart, his very heart, from the 
stab of the executioner's spear : And, instead of "flashing con- 
fusion on his outrageous tormentors ; instead of striking 
them dead to the earth, or plunging them to the depths of hell, 
with his frown ; He cried — In h s last moments, and with 
Ins agonizing lips, He cried, Father, forgive them ; for they 
know not what they do 1 — O ! what a pattern of patience for 
his saints ! what an object of admiration for angels ! what a 
constellation of every mild, amiable, and benign virtue ; shin- 
ing in this hour of darkness, with ineffable splendour and 
beauty ! *— Hence, hence it is, that we are not trembling un- 
der the lightnings of mount Sinai ; that we are not blasted by 
the flames of divine vengeance ; or doomed to dwell with ever- 
lasting burnings. 

* One can hardly forbear animadverting upon the disingenuous temper, 
and perverse taste of Celsu? : who attempts to turn this moS distinguishing 
and ornamental part of our Lord's life, into ridicule and reproach.— Having 
spoken of Christ, as despitefuliy used, and arrayed in a purple robe ; crown- 
ed -with thorns ; and holding, by way of mock-majesty, a reed instead of a 
sceptre (for he enters into all these circumstances, which is a testimony to 
then* truth even from the mouth of an enemy) ; he adds,— Why, in the name 
of wonder, does he not, on this occasion, at least, act the God? Why does 
he not deliver himself from this shocking ignominy ; or execute some signai 
vengeance on the authors of such injurious and abus've insults, both of him- 
self and his Father ?— Why, Celsus; Because he whs meekness and gentle- 
ness itself; whereas your deities were slaves to their own turbulent and re- 
st nt fu! passion s . Because the v were lit tie bett er than sa v a ge s in human shape i 
who too often made a merit of slaughter, and took a horrid pride in spilling 
blood : While Christ was the Prince of Peace, and came not to destroy mens 
lives, but to save. Because any madman on earth, or fury from hell is capa- 
ble of venting his rage : But who, amidst such unsufferabie provocations and 

Vol, I. M 



146 A DESCANT 

Ye frowning wintry clouds ; oceans pendent in the air, 
and burdening the winds ; He, in whose hand you are an over- 
flowing scourge ; or, by whose appointment, an arsenal * of 
warlike stores : — He, who opens your sluices, and a flood 
gushes forth ; to destroy the fruits of the earth, and drown the 
husbandman's hopes : who moulds you into frozen balls, and 
you are shot, linked with death, f on the tro^os of his ene- 
mies : — He, instead of discharging the fuiiousness of his 
wrath upon this guilty head, poured out his prayers, poured 
out his sighs, poured out his very soul, for me and my fellow- 
transgressors : — That, by virtue of his inestimable propitia- 
tion, the overflowings of divine goodwill might be extended 
to sinful men ; that the skies might pour down righteousness ; 
and peace on her downy wings, peace with her, balmy bless- 
ings, descend to dwell on earth. 



barbarities ; who, having in his own hand, the power to rescue himself, the 
power to avenge himself; could submit to all, with an unruffled serenity of 
patience ; and i,ot only riot be exasperated, but overcome, in so triumphant a 
manner, evil with good ?— None but Christ! none but Christ! This Mas com- 
passion worthy of a God ; clemency and charity truly divine. 

Therefore, the calumny raised by the same virulent objector in another 
place, carries its own confutation ; or rather, talis with a weight of infamy 
,on Ids dunghill-deities ; while it bears a most honourable testimony to the 
majestic and invincible meekness of our Sav iour — You indeed, says he to the 
Christian, take upon you to deride the images of our deities ; but ii'Bacchus 
himself, or Hercules had been present, you would not have dared to offer 
such an affront ; or if you had been so pit sumptuous, would have severe- 
ly smarted for your indolence ; Whereas, they who tormented the very per- 
son of your God, and even extended \ ' 
suffered no effects of his displeasure. 

* Juvenal seems to consider the clouds, under this same character, in that 
beautiful line. 

Quicquid habent telorum armamentaria cceli. 

Job has informed us, for what purpose the magazines of the firmament 
il with hail. That they may be ready aganist the day of battle and 
war. .Tohxxwiii. 23.— Joshua has recorded, what ten ibk slaughter has been 
made, by those missive weapons of the Almighty, Josh. x. 11.— Modern lus- 
torians relate, that, when hMward III. invaded France, a shower of hail-stones 
descended, of such a prodigious size, that six thousand horses, and oin thou- 
sand men, were struck dead instantaneously.— But the moat dreadful de- 
scription of this great ordinance of t)u- beavt'ns, is giv n u#fci Rev. xvi. 21. 
There fell upon men, a great hail out of heaven, every atone about U> 
weight of a talent. 



UPON CREATION. 

Ye vernal clouds; furls of finer air, folds of softer mois- 
ture : He, who draws you, in copious exhalations, from the 
brinv deep ; bids you leave every distasteful quality behind, 
and become floating- fountains of sweetest waters : — He, who 
dissolves vou into gentle rain, and dismisses you in f: 
showers ; who kindly commissions you to drop down fatness, 
as vou fall, and to scatter flowers over the field :— He, in the 
unutterable bitterness of his spirit, was without any comfort- 
ing sense of his almighty Father's presence : — He, when his 
were burnt up like a firebrand, had not one drop of 
that sacred consolation, which, on many of his afr!icted ser- 
haa been distilled as the evening-dews, and has '* given 
songs in the nig'ht" of distress :— That, from this unallaved 
and inconsolable anguish of our all-gracious Master, we. as 
from a well of salvation, might derive large draughts of spi- 
ritual refreshment. 

Thou grand ethereal bow ; whose beauties flush the firma- 
ment, and charm every spectator ; He who paints thee on the 
fluid skirts of the sky ; who decks thee with all the pride of 
colours; and bends thee into that graceful and majestic fi- 
gure; at whose command thy vivid streaks sweetly rise, or 
swiftly fade : — He, through ait his life, was arrayed in the hum- 
ble garb of poverty ; and, at his exit, wore the gorgeous gar- 
ment of contempt. — Insomuch, that even his own familiar 
friends, ashamed or afraid to own him, <c hid as it were their 
faces from him !" * — To teach us a becoming disdain, for the 
unsubstantial and transitory glitter of all worldly vanities : 
To introduce us, in robes brighter than the tinges of thy res- 
plendent arch ; even in the robes of his own immaculate righ- 
teousness to introduce us, before that august and venerable 
throne, which the peaceful rainbow surrounds ; surrounds, 
as a pledge of inviolable fidelity, and infinite mercy. 

Ye storms and tempests, which vex the continent, and toss 
the seas; which dash navies on the rocks, and drive forests 
from the roots : He, whose breath rouses you into such re- 
sistless fury, and whose nod centre uls you in your wildest ca- 
reer : He, who holds the rapid and raging hurricane in strait- 
ened reins; and walks dreadfully serene, on the very wings 
of the wind: He went, all meek and gentle, like a lamb to 
the slaughter for us ; and, as a sheep before her shearer3 is 

* Isa. liii. 3. Fuit tanquam aliquis. a quo quisque faciem occultaret. He 

some flagitious and abandoned wretch from whom every one, disdain- 

in? such a, characters and 'diselauiung such aa acquaintance, studiously hid 



148 A DESCANT 

dumb, so he opened not his mouth. — Thus are we instructed 
to bear, with decent magnanimity, the various assaults of 
adversity ; and to pass, with a becoming- tranquillity of tem- 
per, through all the rude blasts of injurious treatment. Thus 
are we delivered from the unutterably fiercer storm of in- 
censed and inexorable justice; from the " fire, the brim- 
" stone, and the horrible tempest, which will be the final 
st portion of the ungodly." 

Thou pestilence, that scatterest ten thousand poisons from 
thy baleful wings ; tainting the air, and infecting the nations ; 
under whose malignant influence, joy is blasted, and nature 
sickens; mighty regions are depopulated, and once crouded 
cities are left without inhabitants ; He, who arms thee with 
inevitable destruction, and bids thee march before his angry 
countenance,* to spread desolation among the tents of the 
wricked, and be the forerunner of far more fearful indignation : 
He, in his holy humanity, was arraigned as a criminial ; and, 
though innocence itself, yea, the very pattern of perfection 
was condemned to die, like the most execrable miscreant. 
As a nuisance to society, and the very bane of the public 
happiness, he was hurried away to execution, and hammer- 
ed to the gibbet; — That, by his blood, he might prepare a 
sovereign medicine to cure us of a more fatal distemper, than 
the pestilence which walketh in darkness, or the sickness 
which destroyeth at noon-day : That he might himself say to 
our last enemy, " O death, I win be thy plague ; O grave, I 
will be thy destruction." -j- 

Heat, whose burning influence parches the Lybian wilds ; 
tans into soot the Ethiopian's complexion ; and makes every 
species of life pant, and droop, and languish : Cold, whose 
icy breath glazes yearly the Russian seas ; often glues the 
frozen sailor to the cordage ; and stiffens the traveller into a 
statue of rigid flesh : — He, who sometimes blends you both, 
and produces the most agreeable temperature ; sometimes 
suffers you to act separately, and rage with intolerable seve- 
rity; that King of heaven, and Controller of universal nature, 
when dwelling in a tabernacle of cl?y, was exposed to chil- 
ling damps, and smitten by sultry beams. The stars, in their 
midnight watches, heard him pray; and the sun, in his me- 
ridian fervours, saw him toil.— Hence are our frozen hearts 
dissolved into a mingled flow of wonder, love, and joy ; be- 
ing conscious of a deliverance from those insufferable flames, 
which, kindled by divine indignation, burn to the lowest hell. 

* Before bun went the pestilence. Ilab. iii. 5. 
t Hos. xiii. 14. 



UPON CREATION. 145 

Thou ocean, v$st world of waters ! He, who sunk that ca- 
pacious bed for thy reception, and poured the liquid element 
into unfathomable channels; before whom, all thy roaming 
billows, and floating mountains, are as the small drop of a 
backet; who, by the least intimation of his will, swells thy 
fluid kingdoms, in wild confusion, to mingle with the clouds ; 
or reduces them, in calm composure, to slumber on the 
shores : He, who once gave thee a warrant to overwhelm the 
whole earth, and bury all its degenerate inhabitants in a wa- 
tery grave ; but has now laid an everlasting embargo on thy 
boisterous waves ; and bound thee, all fierce and madding as 
thou art, in chains stronger than adamant, yet formed of des- 
picable sand : — All the waves of vengeance and wrath, of tri- 
bulation and anguish, passed over his crucified body, and his 
agonizing soul: That we might emerge from those depths of 
misery, from that abyss of guilt, into which we were plunged 
by Adam's fall, and more irretrievably sunk by our own 
transgressions : That, at the last, we might be restored to 
that happy world, which is represented in the vision of God, 
as having no sea r* to denote its perpetual stability, and un- 
disturbed serenity. 

Ye mountains, that overlook the clouds, and project a 
into distant provinces. Everlasting pyramids of nature, 
be shaken by conflicting elements ; not to be shattered 
by the bolts of thunder; nor impaired even by the ravages of 
time: — He who. bid your ridges rise so high, and your foun- 
dations stand so fast ; He, in whose scale you are lighter than 
dust; in whose eye you are less than nothing : He" sunk be"- 
neath a load of woes ; woes insupportable, but not his own ; 
when he took our iniquities upon himself, and heaved the 
more than mountainous burden from a gtiiitv world. 

Ye verdant woods that crown our hills, and are crowned 
yourselves with leaf/ honours : Ye humble shrubs, adorned, 
in Spring, with opening blossoms ; and fanned, in Summer, 
by gentle gales :. Ye, that in distant climes, or in cultivated 
gardens, breathe out spicy odours, and embalm the air with 
delightful perfumes :— Your all-glorious and ever blessed 
•Creator's head was encircled with the thorny wreath ; his 
face was defiled with contumelious spitting;" and his bodv 
bathed in a bloody sweat; that we might wear the crown — 
the crown of glory, which fadeth not away; and live for ever- 
more, surrounded with delights, as much surpassing vourSj 
as yours exceed the ragged desolations of Winter. 



150 A DESCANT 

Thou mantling vine ; He who hangs on thy slender shoots, 
the rich, transparent, weighty cluster; who, under thy un- 
ornamented foliage, and amidst the pores of thy otherwise 
worthless hough, prepares the liquor, the refined and exalted 
liquor, which cheers the nations, and tills the cup of joy. — 
Trees, whose branches are elevated and waving in air ; or 
diffused in easy confinement, along a sunny wall : He, who 
bends you with a lovely burden of delicious fruits ; whose 
genial warmth beautifies their rind, and mellows their taste : — 
He, when voluntarily subject to our wants, instead of being 
refreshed with your generous juices, or regaled with your 
luscious pulp ; had a lothsome potion of vinegar, mingled 
with gall, addressed to his lips : — That we might sit under 
the shadow of bis merits, with great tranquillity, and the ut- 
most complacency : — That, ere long being admitted into the 
paradise of God, we might eat of the tree of life;* and drink 
new wine with him in his Father's kingdom. 

Ye luxuriant meadows ; He who, without the seedman's 
industry, replenishes your irriguous lap with never- failing 
crops of herbage ; and enamels their cheerful green with 
flowers of every hue : — Ye fertile fields; He, who blesses the 
labours of the husbandman ; enriches your well-tilled plains 
with waving harvests, and calls forth the staff of life from 
your furrows : He, who causes both meadows and fields to 
laugh and sing, for the abundance of plenty: — He was no 
stranger to corroding hunger, and parching thirst ; He, alas i 
eat the bitter bread of woe, and had " plenteousness of tears 
to drink V — Thai we might partake of richer dainties, than 
those which are produced by the dew of heaven, and pro- 
ceed from the fatness of the earth : That we might feed on 
*' the hidden manna," and eat the bread which giveth life, 
eternal life, unto the world. 

Ye mines, rich in yellow ore, or bright with veins of silver ; 
that distribute your shining treasures, as far as winds can waft 
the vessels of commerce ; that bestow your alms on monarchs, 
and have princes for your pensioners : — Ye beds of gems, toy- 
shops of Nature ! which form, in dark retirement, the glit- 
tering stone : Diamonds, that sparkle with a brilliant water; 
Rubies, that glow with a crimson flame : Emeralds dipped 
in the freshest verdure of Spring : Sapphires, decked with the 
fairest drapery of the sky: Topaz, emblazed with a golden 
gleam :. Amethyst, impurpled with the blushes of the morn- 
ing : — He, who tinctures the metallic dust, -and consolidates 
the lucid drop: He, when sojourning on earth, had no riches, 
* Rev. U. 7. 



UPON CREATION. 151 

but the riches of disinterested benevolence ; had no ornament, 
but the ornament of unspotted purity. Poor he was in his cir- 
cumstances, and mean in all his accommodations : That we 
might be rich in grace, and obtain " salvation with eternal 
glory: That we might inhabit the new Jerusalem : that splen- 
did city ! whose streets are paved with gold ; whose gates are 
formed of pearl : and the walls garnished with all manner of 
precious stones."* 

Ye gushing fountains, that trickle potable silver through 
the matted grass : Ye fine transparent streams, that glide, in 
crystal waves, along your fringed banks : Ye deep and stately 
rivers, that wind and wander in your course, to spread your 
favours wider; that gladden kingdoms in your progress, 
and augment the sea with your tribute : — He, who supplies 
all your currents from his own ever-flowing and iuexhausti- 
ble liberality: he, when his nerves were racked with ex- 
quisite pain, and his blood inflamed by a raging fever, cri- 
ed, I thirst; and was denied (unparalleled hardship!) in 
this his great extremity, was denied the poor refreshment 
of a single drop of water: — That we, having all- sufficiency in 
all things, might abound to every good work ; might be filled 
with the fulness of spiritual blessings here, and hereafter be 
satisfied with that fulness of joy, which is at God's right hand 
for evermore. 

Ye birds, cheerful tenants of the bough, daily dressed in 
glossy plumage ; who wake the morn, and solace the groves, 
with your artless lays : Inimitable architects ! Who, with- 
out rule or line,- build yoor pensile structures, with all the 
nicety of proportion: You have each his commodious nest, 
roofed with shades, and lined with warmth, to protect and 
cherish the callow brood. — But he, who tuned your throats 
to harmony, and taught you that curious skill ; he was a man 
of sorrows, and had not where to lay. his head, till he felt the 
pangs of dissolution, and was laid in the silent grave : — That 
we, dwelling under the wings of Omnipotence, and resting 
in the bosom of infinite love, might spend an harmonious eter- 
nity, in " singing the song of Moses, and of the Lamb." 

Bees, industrious workmen! that sweep, with busy wing, 
the flowery garden ; and search the blooming heath ; and sip 
the mellifluous dews ; Strangers to idleness ! that ply, with in- 
cessant assiduity, your pleasing task ; and suffer no opening 
blossom to pass unexplored, no sunny gleam to slip away un- 
improved : Most ingenious artificers ! that cling' to the frag- 

* Rev, xaa. 19j 3i. 



152 A DESCANT 

rant buds ; drain them of their treasured sweets ; and extract 
(if I may so speak) even the odoriferous souls of herbs, and 
plants, and flowers : — You, when you have completed your 
work; have collected, refned, and securely lodged the am- 
brosial stores' ; when you might reasonably expect the peace- 
ful fruition of your acquisitions ; you, alas ! are barbarously 
destroyed, and leave your hoarded delicacies toothers ; leave 
them to be enjoyed by your very murderers. I cannot but pi- 
ty your hard destiny ! — How then should my bowels melt with 
sympathy, and my eyes flow with tears,* when I remember, 
that thus, — thus it fared with your and our incarnate Maker ! 
After a life of the most exemplary and exalted piety ; a life, fil- 
led with offices of beneficence, and labours of love ;• he was, 
by wicked hands, crucified and slain. He left the honey of 
his toil, the balm of his blood, and the riches of his obedience, 
to be shared among others; to be shared even among those, 
who coo often crucify him afresh, and put him to open shame. 
Shall I mention the animal, f which spins her soft, her shin- 
ing, her exquisitely fine silken thread ? whose matchless manu- 
factures lend an ornament to grandeur, and make royalty it- 
self more magnificent. — Shall I take notice of the cell, in which, 
when the gaiety and business of life are over, the little recluse 
immures herself, and spends the remainder of her days in re- 
tirement? — Shall I rather observe the sepulchre, which, when 
cloyed with pleasure and weary of the world, she prepares for 
her own interment ? Or how, when a stated period iselasped, 

* Canst thou ungrateful man, his torments see. 
Nor drop a tear Tor him, -u ho pour'd his bJeod for thee ? 

Pitt's Peon •:.. 

t No one, I hope, will be offended at my introducing-, or. such an occa- 
sion, creatures of so low a rank. Since even the volumes of inspiration, 
m to lend me the sanction of their sacred authority ; as they disdain not 
to compare the blessed Jesus to a door, a highway, eve. And perhaps, all 
comparisons which respect a Being of infinite dignity, are not only mean, 
but equally mean and unworthy. 

I am sensible, likewise, that in thi- paragraph and some others, all the 
circumstances are not completely correspondent. But if, in some grand 
particulars, the reddition answers to the description, this. I trust, w '! 
sufficient for my purpose, and satisfactory to my readers.— -fcerJiajw, it 
would bi no mistaken caution, to apply the same observation to many of 
the beautiful similitudes, parables, ami allegories, used by onr Lord ; such 
as the brazen serpent, the unjust steward, the thief in the night, &C. ; w hich, 
'-.!' scrupulously sifted, or rigorously strained, for an entire coincidence in 
eVery circumstance, must appear to great disad\ antage, and lead into pal- 
pable iricocvenjencics. 



UPON CREATION. 

•she wakes from a death-like inactivity ; break the inclosure 
Of her tomb ; throws off the dusky shroud ; assumes a new 
form ; puts on a more sumptuous array ; and, from an insect, 
creeping- on the ground, becomes a winged inhabitant of the 
air ? — No : This is a poor reptile ; and therefore unworthy 
to serve as an illustration, when any character of the Son of 
God comes under consideration. But let me correct myself, 
was not Christ (to use the language of his own blessed' Spi- 
rit) " a worm and no man ?" * In appearance such, and treat- 
ed as such. Did he not also bequeath the fine linen of his 
own most perfect righteousness, to compose the marriage-gar- 
ment -f for our disarrayed and defiled souls ? Did he not, be- 
fore his flesh saw corruption, emerge triumphant from the 
grave ; and not only mount the lower firmament, but ascend 



* Ps.il.xxii. 6. 

t This, ant! several o her hints, interspersed in the two volumes, refer to 
the active and passive righteousness of Christ, imputed to believers, foi their. 
justification: Which, in the opinion of man)" grct-:f expositors', is the mysti- 
cal and the most sublime meaning of the wedcSng-garnient, so emphatically 
and forcibly recommended by the Teacher sent from God, Matth. xxii. 11. 
A doctrine, which some of those who honour my Meditations v* ith a perusal, 
probably may not receive v. ith much, if any approbation. I hope, the 
whole performance will not be cashiered, for one difference in sentiment. 
And I beg, that the sentiment itself may not hastily be rejected, without a 
serious hearing. For I have the pleasure of king intimately. acquainted 
with a gentleman of good learning, and distinguished sense, who had once 
as strong prepossessions against this tenet, as can well be imagined. Yet 
now he not only admits it, as a truth ; but embraces if, as the joy of his - 
heart ; and cleaves to it, as the rock of his hopes. 

A clear and cogent treatise, entitled, Submission to the righteousness of 
God, was the instrument of removing his prejudices, and reducing him to a 
better judgment. — In which he has been happily confirmed, by the authority 
of the most illustrious names, and the works of the most eminent pens, that 
have ever adorned our church and nation. In this number are,— Bishop 
Jewel, one of our great reformers, and the other venerable compilers of 
our homilies; — Archbishop Usher, that oracle of universal learning ;— Bishop 
Hal!, the devout and sprightly orator of lib age ; — the copious and fervent 
Bishop Hopkins; — the singularly good and unaffected Bishop Beveridge;— 
that everlasting honour of the bench of judicature, Lord Chief Justice 
Hales ;— the nervous, florid, and persuasive'jDean Stanhope ;— the practical 
and perspicuous Mr. Burkitt; — and, to summon no other evidence, that 
matchless genius Milton; who, in various parts of his divine poem inculcates 
this comfortable truth; and, in one passage, represents it under the very 
same image, which is made use of above, book X. I'm. 222. 

I had almost forgot to mention, that the treatise intitled Submission, Etc, 
was written by Mr. Benjamin Jenks;— whose book of devotions has deserv? 



154 A DESCANT 

the heaven of heavens ; taking possession of those sublime 
abodes, in our name, and as our forerunner ? 

Ye cattle, ttia 1 rest in your inclosed pastures : Ye beasts, 
that range the unlimited" forest : Ye fish that rove through 
trackless paths of the sea : Sheep, clad in garments, which, 
when left by you, are wore by Kings : Kine, who feed on ver- 
dure, which transmuted in your bodies, and strained from 
your udders furnishes a repast for Queens : Lions, roaring 
after your prey : Leviathan, taking your pastime in the great 
deep ; with all that wing the firmament, or tread the soil ; or 
swim the wave : — He, who spreads his ever-hospitable board ; 
who admits you all to be his continual guests : and suffers 3011 
to want no manner of thing that is good : — He was destitute, 
d, tormented : He endured all that was miserable and 
reproachful ; in order to exalt a degenerate race, who had 
debased themselves to a level with the beasts that perish, un- 
to seats of distinguished and immortal honour ; in order to in- 
troduce the slaves of sin, and heirs of hell, into mansions of 
i;mmate and and everlasting bliss. 

Surely, the contemplation of such a subject, and the dis- 
tant anticipation of such a hope, may almost turn earth into 
i), and make even inanimate Nature vocal with praise. 
Let it then break from every creature. Let the meanest 
feel the inspi/mg impulse ; let the greatest acknowledge them- 
selves unable, worthily to express t'ne stupendous goodness. 

Praise him, ye insects that crawl on the ground ; who, 
rh high above all height, humbled himself to dwell in 



only passed through efeven editions; is truly admirable fur the sublimity, and 
spirituality, and propriety of the sentiments ; as well as for the concise form, 
and pathetic torn of theexpression :— Whose book of meditations, though 
n'> less worthy u*' rrei.eril acceptance, has, for a considerable time, been 
almost unknown and extisict; but it is now revived, ana is lately republish- 
ed, in two octavo vol mm s, \>y Mr. James Rivingtom For which service he 
has my thanks : I Hatter myself, fee will have the thanks of the public ; as I 
am persuaded conk! religion and virtue speak, he would have their acknow- 
ledgments also. Since few treatises are more happily calculated, to repre- 
sent Petition in its native beauty, and to promote the interests of genuine 
%irl.e .— On which account, I trust, the candid will excuse me, and thejudi- 
cious will not condemn me, even though the recommendation of those devo- 
tions, and of these meditations, may appear to be a digression from my 
.subject. 

X. P-. Should the reader he inclined to examine the a r o r< -mentioned 
tenet, he will find it slated, discussed, and applied to its due improvement, 
in a piece intitled, " Theron and Asnasio," written by 



UPON CREATION. 155 

dust. Birds of the air, waft on your wings, and warble in your 
notes, His, praise; who, though Lord of the celestial abodes, 
while sojourning on earth, wanted a shelter commodious as 
your nests — Ye rougher world of brutes, join with the gentle 
songsters of the shade, and howl to him your hoarse applause ; 
who breaks the jaw-bones of the infernal lion ; who softens into 
mildness the savage disposition ; and bids the wolf he down, 
in amicable agreement, with the Lamb. Bleat out, ye hills; 
let broader lows be responsive from the vales ; ye forests 
catch, and ye rocks retain, the inarticulate hymn ; because 
Messiah the Prince t( feeds his flock, like a shepherd. He 
gathers the iambs with his arm ; he carries them in his bo- 
som ; and gently leads those that are with young." * — Wave, 
ye stately cedars, in sign of worship, wave your branching 
heads to him, who meekly bowed his own on the accursed 
tree. Pleasing prospect, scenes of beauty, where nicest Art 
conspires with lavish Nature, to form a paradise below; lay 
forth all your charms, and in all your charms confess your- 
selves a mere blank, compared with his amiabieness, who 
is ** fairest among ten thousand, and altogether lovely." — 
Drop down, ye showers ; and testify, as you fall ; testily of 
his grace, which descends more copiously than the rain, dis- 
tils more sweetly than the dew. Let sighing gales breathe, 
and murmurmg rivulets flow ; breathe and flow, in harmoni- 
ous consonance to him ; whose spirit is far more reviving, than 
the cooling breeze ; who is himself the fountain of living wa- 
ters. 

Ye lightnings, blaze to his honour; ye thunders* sound his 
praise ; while reverberating clouds return the roar, and bel- 
lowing oceans propagate the tremendous itnthem. — Mutest of 
creatures, add your silent oratory, and display the triumphs of 
his meekness; who, though he malieth the clouds his chariot, 
and treadeth upon the waves of the sea; though the thunder 
is his voice, and the lightning his sword of justice ; yei, amidst 
the most abusive and cruel enjuries, was submissive and lifted 
not his hand, was *' dumb and opened not his mouth." — Great 
Source of day, address thy radiant homage to a far sublimer 
sun. Write, in all thy ample round, with every lucid beam — ' 
O 1 write a testimony to him, who is the brightness of his Fa- 
ther's glory ; who is the Sun of righteousness to a sinful world : 
and is risen, never to go down ; is risen, to be our everlasting 
light. — Shine clear, ye skies ; look gay, thou earth ; let the 

* Isa. .\!. 11. 



156 A DESCANT 

floods clap their hands, and let every creature wear a smile , 
For he cometh, the Creator himseli'cometh, to be manifested 
in the flesh ; and with him comes pardon, peace, and joy ; 
every virtue, and all felicity, comes in his train. — Angels and 
archangels, let your songs be of Jesus, and teach the very 
heavens to echo with his adored and majestic name. Ye be- 
held him, with greater transports of admiration, when you at- 
tended his agony in the garden, and saw him prostrate on the 
ground, than when you beheld universal Nature rising at his 
call, and saw the wonders of his creating might Tune to 
loftiest notes your golden harps, and waken raptures unknown 
before even in heavenly breasts ; while all that has breath, 
swells the concert of harmony ; and all that has being, unites 
in the tribute of praise. 

Chiefly", let man exalt his voice ; let man, with distinguish- 
ed hosannas, hail the Redeemer. For man he was stretched 
on the racking cross ; for man, he was consigned to the gloo- 
my sepulchre ; for man lie procured grace immeasurable, and 
bliss inconceivable. — However different, therefore, in your 
age, or more different in your circumstances, be unanimous, 
O men, in magnifying a Saviour, who is no respecter of per- 
sons, who gave himself a ransom for all.— Bend, ye Kings, 
from your thrones of ivory and gold; in your robes of imperial 
purple, fall prostrate at his feet ; who forsook a nobler throne, 
and laid aside more illustrious ensigns of majesty, that \ou 
might reign with God fur ever and ever. — Children of poverty, 
meanest of mortals (if any can be called poor, who are thus en- 
riched ; if any can be accounted mean, who are thus ennobled) 
rejoice, greatly rejoice, in God jour Saviour ; who chose to 
be indigent, was w U'.ug to be contemned, that you might be 
entitled to the treasures, and be numbered with the princes of 
heaven — Sons of affliction, though harassed with pain, and 
inured to anguisl , O ! change your groans into songs of gra- 
titude Let no c mplaining voice, no jarring string be he^rd, 
in the universal symphony ; but glorify the Lamb even in the 
fires:* who himself bore greater torment, than you feel; and 
hr.s promised you a share in the joy, which he inherits ; who 
has made \our sufferings short, and will make your rest eter- 
nal. — Men of hoary locks, bending beneath a weight of years, 
and tottering on he brink of the grave ; let Christ be your 
support, under all infirmities ; lean upon Christ, as the rock of 
your salvation. Let his name, his precious name, from the 



UPON CREATION. X$f 

last accents, which quiver on your pale expiring lips.— -And let 
this be the first, that lisps on your tongues, ye tender infants. 
Remember your Redeemer, in your earliest moments. De- 
vote the choice of your hours to the learning of his will, and 
the chief of your strength to the glorifying of his name ; who, 
in the perfection of health, and the very prime of manhood, was 
content to become a motionless and ghastly corpse, that you 
might be girt with the vigour, and clothed with the bloom, of 
eternal youth. 

Ye spirits of just men made perfect, who are released from 
the burden of the flesh ; and freed from all the vexatious soli- 
citations of corruption in yourselves; delivered from all the 
injurious effects of iniquity in others : who sojourn no longer 
in the tents of strife, or the territories of disorder ; but are 
received into that pure, harmonious, holy society, where every 
one acts up to his amiable and exalted character ; where God 
himself is pleased graciously and immediately to preside. — ■ 
You find, not without pleasing astonishment, your hopes im- 
proved into actual enjoyment, and your faith superseded by 
the beatific vision. You feel all your former shyness of beha- 
viour, happily lost in the overflowings of unbounded love ; and 
all your little differences of opinion, entirely bore down by tides 
of invariable truth. Bless, therefore, with all your enlarged 
powers, bless his infinitely larger goodness ; who, when he had 
overcome the sharpness of death, opened the gates of para- 
dise, opened the kingdom of heaven, to all generations, and 
to every denomination of the faithful. 

Yemen of holy conversation, and humble tempers, think 
of him, who loved you, and washed you from your sins in his 
own blood. Think of him, on your silent couch ; talk of him, 
in every, social interview Glory in his excellencies ; make 
your boast of his obedience ; and add, still continue to add, 
the incense of a dutiful life, to all the oblations of a grateful 
tongue. — Weakest of believers, who go mourning under a 
sense of guilt, and conflicting with the ceaseless assaults of 
temptation; put off your sackcloth, and be girded with glad- 
ness. Because Jesus is as merciful to hear, as he is mighty 
to help. Because he is touched with the tenderest sympa- 
thizing concern, for all your distresses ; and he lives, ever 
lives, to be your Advocate with the Father. Why then should 
uneasy doubts sadden your countenances? why should des- 
ponding fears oppress you- souls ? Turn, turn those disconso- 
late sighs into cheerful hymns; since you have his powerful 
intercession, and his inestimable merits, to be your anchor in 
all tribulations, to be your passport into eternal blessedness. 
O 



158 A DESCANT 

Most of all, ye ministers of the sanctuary, heralds commis. 
sioned from above, lift, every one, his voice like a trumpet, 
and loudly proclaim the Redeemer. Get ye up, ye ambassa- 
dors of peace, get ye up into the high mountains ? and spread. 
far and wide the honours of the Lamb, " that was slain, but is 
alive for evermore." Teach every sacred roof, to resound 
with his fame ; and every human heart, to glow with his love. 
Declare, as far as the force of words will go, declare the in- 
exhaustible fulness of that great atonement, whose merits 
are commensurate with the glorias of the Divinity.* Tell the 
sinful wretch, what pity yearns in Immanuel's bowels ; what 
blood he has spilt, what agonies he has endured, what won- 
ders he has wrought for the salvation of his enemies. Invite 
the indigent, to become rich ; entreat the guilty, to accept of 
pardon ; because with the crucified Jesus is plenteous redemp- 
tion, and all-sufficiency to save. — While you, placed in con- 
spicuous stations, pour the joyful sound , may I, as 1 steal 
through the vale of humble life, catch the pleasing accents ? 
For me, the Author of all blessings became a curse ! for me, 
Lis bones were dislocated, ard his flesh was torn ; he hung 
with streaming veins, and an agonizing soul, on the cross for 
me. O ! may 1, in my little sphere, and amidst the scanty cir- 
cle of my acquaintance, at least whisper these glad transport- 
ing tidings; whisper them from my own heart, that they may 
surely reach, and sweetly penetr~*.e theirs 

But, when men and angels raise the grand hymn ; when 
all worlds, and all beings, add their collective acclamations ; 
this full, fervent, and universal chorus, will be so inferior to 

*If in this place and others, I have spoken magnificently of the blood of 
Christ, and its insuperable efficacy to expiate gmit; I think, it is no more 
than i- e\i ressed in a veil celebrated liunn. written by one of the greatest 
wits, who iiud also been o;<e of th*- greatest libertines, and afterwards com- 
menced one of the most remarkable penitents, in France. A hymn, which 
even Mr. Bayle Confesses to be a very fine oik ; which another great critic 
calls an admirable one ; and which a' genim superior to them both, recom- 
mends as a noble one. (See Sped. vol. VII. N». 513.) 

The author. having acknowledged his crimes to be beyond measure hein- 
ous. ::r;d almost beyond forgiveness provoking-; so provoking, as to render 
tears froin such <■>• s offensive, and j raytrs from such Jjps abominable ;— 
eomposeis bimstlrto submit, without the least repining sentiment; to - 
miu even wit:i uv -is - and adoration, to \ be most dreadful doom. Accord- 
ingly, Ik- se. lid's in resigned struck bj the 
1h tj of vengeance: But— with a turn of thi Surprising and 
sprightly ; with a faith properly fbumh-d, i^nd happily firm ; he adds. 

Yet where ! O where .' can ev'n t! y thunders fall ? 
Christ's blood o'erspreads, and shields me from them all. 



UPON CREATION. 159 

the riches of the Redeemer's grace ; so disproportionate to 
the magnificence of his glory, that it will seem but to debase 
the unutterable subject it attempts to exalt. The loud hallelu- 
jah will die away, in the solemn mental eloquence of pros- 
trate, rapturous, silent adoration. 

O Goodness infinite ! Goodness immense ! 

And Love that passeth knowledge ! — Words are vain 

Language is lost in wonders so divine. 

Come then, expressive Silence, muse his praise" 



SlfD OST THE FIRST VOLUME, 



MEDITATIONS 



CONTEMPLATIONS. 



IN TWO VOLUMES. 



CONTAINING, 
VOLUME I. ¥ VOLUME II. 

Meditations among the Tombs; X Contemplations on the Night; 

Reflections on a Flower-Garden ; % Contemplations on the Starry Heavens ; 

and, V and, 

A Descant upon Creadon. X A Winter-Fiece. 



BY JAMES HERVEY, A. M. 

LATE RECTOR OF WESTON-FAVELL, NORTHAMPTONSHIRE. 



TWO VOLUMES IN ONE. 



PHILADELPHIA: 

PUBLISHED BY B. AND T. KITE, N°. 20, N. 3d STREET. 

1809. 






--2 PAUL ORCHARD, 

^OF STOKE-ABBEY, IN DEVONSHIRE, ESQ, 

^ST DEAR SIR, 

AS your honoured father was pleased to make choice of 
me to answer in your name at the font, and to exercise a sort 
of guardianship over your spiritual interests ; permit me, by 
putting these little treatises into your hand, to fulfil some 
part of that solemn obligation. 

Gratitude for many signal favours, and a conscientious re- 
gard to my sacred engagement, have long ago inspired my 
breast with the warmest wishes, both for your true dignity, 
and real happiness. Nor can I think of a more endearing, or 
a more effectual way, of advancing either the one or the 
other, than to set before you a sketch of your excellent father's 
character.— Illustrious examples are the most winning incite- 
ments to virtue. And none can come attended with such 
particular recommendations to You, Sir, as the pattern of that 
worthy person, from whom you derived your very being. 

A most cordial and reverential esteem for the divine word, 
was one of his remarkable qualities. Those oracles of Heaven 
were his principal delight, and his inseparable companions. 
Your gardens, your solitary walks, and the hedges of your 
fields, can witness,* with what an unwearied assiduity he ex- 
ercised himself in the law of the Lord. From hence he fetch- 
ed his maxims of wisdom, and formed his judgment of things. 
The sacred precepts were the model of his temper, and the 
guide of his life ; while the precious promises were the joy of 
his heart, and his portion for ever. 

Improving company was another of his most relishing plea- 
sures. Few gentlemen were better furnished, either with rich- 
ness of fancy, or copiousness of expression, to bear a shining 
part in conversation. With these talents, he always endea- 
voured to give some useful, generally some religious, turn to 
the discourse. Nor did he ever reflect, with greater com- 
placency, on his social hours, than when they tended to glori- 
fy the Eternal Majesty ; and to awaken, in himself and others, 
a more lively spirit of devotion. 

To project for the good of others, was his frequent study ; 
and to carry those benevolent contrivances into execution, his 



164 DEDICATION. 

favourite employ. When visited by the young persons of the ) 
neighbourhood, far from taking an ungraceful pride to initiate ^ 
them in debauchery, or confirm them in a riotous habit ; it 
was his incessant aim, by finely-adapted presuasives, to en- j 
courage them in industry, and establish them in a course of j 
sobriety ; to guard them against the allurements of vice, and 
animate them with the principles of piety. A noble kind of hos- ; 
pitality this ! which will probably transmit its beneficial infiu- | 
ence to their earthly possessions, to their future families, and 
even to their everlasting state. 

A conviction of human indigence, and a thorough persua- 
sion of the Divine All sufficiency, induced him to be frequent 
in prayer. To prostrate himself, in profound adoration, before 
that infinitely- exalted Being, who dwells in light inaccessible, 
was his glory ; to implore the continuance of the Almighty fa- 
vour, and the increase of all Christian graces, was his gain. 
In those moments, no doubt, he remembered You, Sir, with a 
particular earnestness ; and lodged many an ardent petition 
in the Court of Heaven, for his infant-son. Cease not to second 
them with your own devout supplications, that they may de- 
scend upon your head, " in the fulness of the blessings of the 
Gospel of peace." 

To give their genuine lustre to ail his other endowments, 
he was careful to maintain an humble mind. Though his 
friends might admire his superior abilities, or his acquaintance 
applaud his exemplary behaviour, he saw how far he fell short 
of the mark of his high calling ; saw, and lamented his defects ; 
saw, and renounced himself; relying for final acceptance, and 
endless felicity, on a better righteousness than his own ; even 
on the transcendently perfect righteousness, and inconceiva- 
bly precious death, of* Jesus the Redeemer. This was the rock 
of his hope, and the very crown of his rejoicing. 

These, Sir, are some of the distinguishing characteristics 
of your deceased parent. Az you had the misfortune to 
lose so valuable a relative, before you was capable of 
forming any acquaintance with his person ; I flatter myself, 
you will the more attentively observe his picture: This his 
moral picture; designed not to be set in gold, or sparkle in 
enamel, but to breathe in your spirit, and to live in all your 
conduct. — Which, though it be intirely your own, calculated 
purely for yourself, may possibly (like the family-pieces in 
your parlour, that glance an eye upon as many as enter 
the room, make some pleasing and useful impression on eve- 
ry beholder. — May every one, charmed with the beautiful 



DEDICATION, 165 

image, catch its resemblance \ and each, in his respective 
iphere, •« go and do likewise." 

But you, Sir, are peculiarly concerned to copy the amiable 
original, As the- order of an indulgent Providence has made 
you heir of the affluent circumstances, let not a gay and 
thoughtless inadvertence cut you off from the richer inheri- 
tance of these noble qualifications. — These will be your se» 
curity, amidst all the glittering dangers, which are insepara- 
ble trom bloom ng years and an elevated situation in life. 
These are your path, your sure and only path, to true great- 
ness, and solid happiness. — Tread in these steps, and you can- 
not fail to be the darling of your friends, and the favourite of 
Heaven. Tread in these steps, and you will give inexpressible 
joy to one of the best of mother? ; you will become an exten- 
sive blessing to your fellow- creatures ; and, which, after such 
most engaging motives, is scarce worthy to be mentioned., 
you will be the delight, the honour, and the boast of, 

Dear Sir, 

You? very affectionate Godfather, 

And most faithful humble servant, 

JAMES HERVEY. 

We$ton?Fa<o£lh near HarthmnptQQ. \ 
?«h 44, 1747 $ 



PREFACE. 



WE have already exercised our speculations on the 
tombs and flowers ; surveying Nature, covered with the deep- 
est horrors, and arrayed in the richest beauties. Allegory 
taught many of the objects to speak the language of virtue, 
while Imitation lent her colouring to give the lessons an en- 
gaging air— And this, with a view of imitating that Divine In- 
structor; who commissioned the lilly,* in her silver suit, to re- 
monstrate in the ear of unbelieving reason ; who sent his disci- 
ples (men ordained to teath*the universe) to learn maxims of 
the last importance, fmm the most insignificant birds,* that 
wandei through the paths of the a r ; from the very meanest 
herbs,* that are scattered over the face of the ground.f 

* * * Matth. vi. 26, 28, 29, 30. 

t Celebrated writers, as Demosthenes and Cicero, i'hucydides and Livy, 
are observed to have a style peculier to themselv s. — Now, whoever consi- 
ders the discourses of Christ, will find him distinguishing himself by a style, 
■which may properly be called his own. Majestic, yc t familiar, liappily unit- 
ing dignity with condtse, nsion : it consists in teaching 'lis followers the sub- 
limest truths by spiritu:ilii ; ngou the most common occurrences : Which, be- 
sides its being level to the lowest apprehensions, and ..dmirably adapted to 
steal into the most inattentive heart, is act.- ipaintd with '.lis verysir.^ular 
advantage, that it turns even the sphere of btuin. ss into a school of instruc- 
tion, and renders the nost ordinary objects t set of monitors, ever soliciting 
our regard, beeanseever present to o'irs. nses.— So that, I believe, it na<j hf said 
of this aniiabk method in which our Lord conveyed, as well as ofthat power fill 
energy which attended his doctrn >, That never man spake like this man.— 
The harvest approaching, he rend. «is his disciples of a far more important har- 
vest, Jolin iv. 35. Mat. xiii. 30. when im.r.ort.il beings shall be reaped from the 
grave, and gathered in from all the quarters of the earth ; when every human 
creature shall sustain the character of valuable wh, at, or despicable tares ;and 
accordingly be lodged in mansions of everlasting security, or consigned over 
to the rage of unqu<neha.ble fire. In his charge to fishermen, when they 
are commencing preachers, Matth. iv. 19. he exhorts them, conformably to 
the nature of their late occupation, to use the same assiduity and address, in 
winning souls, as they were wont to exercise in catching the finny prey.-" 
For the farther illustration of this no less useful than curious subject. 1 would 
refer my reader to a valuable note in Sir Isaac Newton's Observation* on tlio 
Prophecies, p. 148. 4to edition. 



PREFACE. 167 

Emboldened by the kind acceptance of the preceding* 
sketches, I beg leave to confide in the same benevolence of 
taste, for the protection and support of the two remaining' es- 
says ; which exhibit a prospect of still life, and grand opera- 
tion, which moralize on the most composed, and most magni- 
ficent, appearances of things. — In which, Fancy is again suf- 
fered to introduce her imagery, buc only as the handmaid of 
Truth, in order to dr- ,s her person, and display her charms ; 
to engage the attention, and win the love, even of the gay, and 
of the fashionable. Which is more likely to be effected, by 
forming agreeable pictures of Nature, and deriving instruc- 
tive observations, than by the laborious method of long -dedu- 
ced arguments, or close connectedreasonings.— The Contem- 
plation of the Heavens and the Faith, of their admirable pro- 
perties and beneficial changes, has always afforded the most 
exalted gratification to the human mind. In compliance with 
this prevailing taste, I have drawn my serious admonitions 
from the stupendous theatre, and variegated scenery, of the 
universe : that the reader may learn his duty from liis very 
pleasures; — may gather wisdom, mingled with virtue, from 
the most refined entertainments, and noblest delights. 

The evening, drawing her sables over the world, and gently 
darkening into night, is a season peculiarly proper for sedate 
consideration. All circumstances concur, to hush our pas- 
sions, and sooth our cares ; to tempt our steps abroad, and 
prompt our thoughts to serious reflection. 



• Then is the time, 



For those whom Wisdom, and whom Nature charm, 

To steal themselves from the degen'rate croud, 

And soar above this little scene of things ; 

To tread low-thoughted vice beneath their feet; 

To sooth the throbbing passions into peace ; 

And woo lone quiet in her silent walks. 

Thomson's autumn^I- 973. 

The favour I would solicit for the first of the following com- 
positions, rs, that it rhav be permitted to- attend, in such retir- 
ed and contemplative excursions ; to attend, if not under the 
character of a friend, at least, in the humble capacity of a 
servant, or a page: — As a servant to open the door of medita^ 
tion, and remove every impediment to those bestexercises of 
the mind ; which blend advantage with amusement, and im- 
prove, while they delight : — As a page, to gather up the un- 



168 PREFACE 

stable, fluctuating train of Fancy ; and collect her fickle pow- 
ers into a consistent, regular, and useful habit of thinking. 

The other, conversant among the starry regions, would 
lead the imagination through those beautiful tracts of un- 
clouded azure ; and point out to the judgment some of those 
astonishing particulars, which so eminently signalize the ce- 
lestial worlds. A prospect this, to which curosity attracts 
our eyes, and to which scripture itself often directs our study : 
A prospect, beyond all others most excellently calculated, to 
enlarge the soul, and ennoble its conceptions'; — to give the 
grandest apprehensions of the everlasting God, and create 
sentiments of becoming superiority, with relation to all transi- 
tory interests : — in a word, to furnish faith with the surest 
foundation for a steady affiance, and true magnanimity of 
spirit; to afford piety the strongest motives, both for a lively 
gratitude, and profound veneration 

While Galileo lifts his tube, and discovers the prodigious 
magnitude of those radiant orbs ; — while Newton measures 
their amazing distances, and unites the whole system in har- 
monious order, by the subtle influences of attraction :— I would 
only, like the herald before that illustrious Hebrew,* proclaim, 
at every turn, " Bow the knee, and adore the Almighty Ma- 
" ker ; magnify his eternal name, and make his praise, like all 
ft his works, to be glorious." 

* Gen. xli. 43. 



CONTEMPLATIONS 

ON THE NIGHT, 



Night is fair Virtue's immemorial friend : 

The conscious Moon, through ev'ry distant age, 

Has held a lamp to Wisdom. 

Night^Thoughts, y<h F. 



THE business of the day dispatched, and the sultry 
neats abated, invited me to the recreation of a walk ; a walk 
in one of the finest recesses of the country, and in one of the 
most pleasing evenings which the Summer-season produced. 

The limes and elms, uniting' their branches over my head, 
formed a verdant canopy, and cast a most refreshing shade. 
Under my feet lay a carpet of Nature's velvet ; grass intermin- 
gled with moss, and embroidered with flowers. Jessamines, 
in conjunction with woodbines, twined around the trees, dis- 
playing their artless beauties to the eye, and diffusing their 
delicious sweets through the air. On either side, the boughs 
rounded into a set of regular arches, opened a view into the 
distant fields, and presented me with a prospect of the bend- 
ing skies. The little birds, all joyous and grateful for the fa- 
vours of the light, were paying their acknowledgments in a 
tribute of harmony, and soothing themselves to rest with songs, 
While a French-horn, from a neighbouring seat, sent its me- 
lodious accents, softened by the length of their passage, to 
complete the concert of the grove. 

Roving in this agreeable manner, my thoughts were exer- 
cised on a subject still more agreeable than the season, or the 
scene, I mean, our late signal victory over the united forces 
of intestine treason, and foreign invasion : a victory, which 
pours joy through the present age, and will transmit its influ« 
ence to generations yet unborn. — Are not all the blessings, 
which can endear society, or render life itself desirable, cen- 
tred in our present happy constitution, and auspicious go- 
vernment ? Were they not all struck at, by that impious and 
horrid blow, meditated at Rome, levelled by France, and se= 
conded bv factious spirits at home ? Who then can be suflv 

P 



170 CONTEMPLATIONS 

ciently thankful for the gracious interposition of Providence, 
which has not only averted tbe impending-ruin, but turned it, 
with aggravated confusion, on the authors of our troubles ? 

Methinks, every tiling valuable which I possess, every 
thing charming which I behold, conspire to enhance this ever- 
memorable event. To this it is owing, that I can ramble un- 
molested along the vale of private life, and taste all the inno- 
cent satisfaction of a contemplative retirement. — Had rebel- 
lion* succeeded in her detestable designs ; instead of walking 
with security and complacence in these flcwery paths, I might 
have met the assassin with his dagger ; or have been obliged 
to abandon my habitation, and " embrace the rock for a shel- 
ter." — Farewel then, ye fragrant shades ; seats of meditation, 
and calm repose ! I should have been driven from your loved 
retreats, to make way for some barbarous, some insulting 
victor. — Farewel then, ye pleasing toils, and wholesome 
amusements of my rural hours ! I should no more have reared 
the. tender flower to the sun ; no more have taught the espa- 
lier to expand her boughs ; nor have fetched, any longer, 
from my kitchen garden, the purest supplies of health. 

Had Rebellion succeeded in her detestable designs ; instead 
of being regaled with the music of the woods, I might have 
been alarmed with the sound of the trumpet, and all the 
thunder of war. Instead of being entertained with this beau- 
tiful landscape, I might have beheld our houses ransacked, 
and our villages plundered ; I might have beheld our fenced 
cities encompassed with armies, and our fruitful fields "cloth- 
ed with desolation ;" or have been shocked with the more 
frightful images of " garments rolled in blood," and of a ruffi- 
an's blade reeking from a brother's heart. Instead of Peace, 
witli her cheering- olives, sheltering our abodes ; instead of 
Justice, with her impartial scale, securing our goods; Perse- 
cution had brandished her sword, and Slavery clanked her 
chains. 

Nor are these miseries imaginary only, or the creatures of 
a groundless panic. There are, in a neighbouring kingdom, 
who very lately experienced them in all their rigour. f And^if 

* Referring to the Rebellion, set on foot in the year 1745;— which, for 
several months, made a very alarming; progress in the North ;— but was 
happily extinguished by the glorious and decisive victory at Culloden. 

+ See a pamphlet, untitled, Popery always the same.— Which contains a 
narrative of the persecutions, and severe hardships, lately suffered by the 
Protestants, in the Souther.] parts of France 5 anil cl ses with a most sea- 
sonable, alarming, and spirited address to the inhabitants of Great Bri- 
tain. Printed 1740. 



ON THE NIGWT. 171 

the malignant spirit of Popery had forced itself into our church ; 
if an abjured Pretender had cut his way to our throne ; we 
could have no reason to expect a mitigation of their severity, 
on our behalf. But, supposing the tender mercies of a blot- 
ted usurper to have been somewhat less cruel; where, aias ! 
would have been the encouragement to cultivate our little por- 
tion ; or what pleasure couid arise from an improved spot ; 
if both the one and the other lay, every moment, at the mercy 
of lawless power ? This imbiuering circumstance would spoil 
their relish ; and by rendering them a precarious, would ren- 
der them a joykss acquisition. — In vain might the vine spread 
her purple clusters ; in vain be lavish of her generous juices ; 
Tyranny, like a ravenous harpy, would be always hovering 
over the bowl, and ready to snatch it from the lip of Industry, 
or to wrest it from the hand of Liberty. 

Liberty, that dearest of names ; and Property, that best of 
charters, give an additional, an inexpressible charm, to every 
delightful object. — See, how the declining sun has beautified 
the Western clouds ; has arrayed them in crimson, and skirt- 
ed them with gold. Such a refinement of our domestic bliss, 
is Property ; such an improvement of our public privileges, 
is Liberty.— When the lamp of day shall withdraw his beams, 
there will still remain the same collection of floating vapours ; 
but O ! how changed, how gloomy ! The carnation-streaks are 
faded ; the golden edgings are worn away ; and all the lovely 
tinges are lost, in a leaden-coloured louring sadness. Such 
would be the aspect of all these scenes of beauty, and all these 
abodes of pleasure, if exposed continually to the caprice of ar- 
bitrary sway, or held in a state of -abject and cringing de- 
pendance 

The sun has almost finished his daily race, and hastens to 
the goal. He descends lower and lower, till his chariot-wheels 
seem to hover on the utmost verge of the sky. What is some- 
what remarkable, the orb of light, upon the point of setting, 
grows considerably broader. The shadows of objects, just 
before they become blended in undistinguishable darkness, are 
exceedingly lengthened. * — Like blessings, little prized, while 
possessed ; but highly esteemed, the very instant they are pre- 
paring for their flight ; bitterly regretted, when once they are 
gone, and to be seen no more. 

The radiant globe is, now, half-immersed beneath the dusky 
earth ; or, as the ancient poets speak, is shooting in to the ocean, 
and sinks in the Western sea. — And could I view the sea 



' Majoresque ctulunt aids de montibus umbrse.— — F?r£. 



CONTEMPLATIONS 

at this juncture, it would yield a most amusing and curious 
spectacle. The rays, striking' horizontally on the liquid ele- 
ment, give it the appearance of floating- glass ; or reflected in 
many a different direction, form a beautiful multiplicity of co- 
lours. — A stranger, as he walks along the sandy beach, and, 
lost in pensive attention, listens to the murmurings of the rest- 
less flood, is agreeably alarmed by the gay decorations of the 
surface. With entertainment, and with wonder, he sees the 
curling waves, here glittering with white, there glowing with 
purple ; in one place, wearing an azure tincture ; in another, 
glancing a cast of undulating green ; in the whole, exhibiting 
a piece of fluid scenery, that may vie with yonder pensile ta- 
pestries, though wrought m the loom, and tinged with the dyes 
Off heaven. 

While I am transported by fancy to the shores of the ocean, 
the great luminary is sunk beneath the horizon, and totally 
disappears. The whole face of the ground is overspread with 
shades ; or, with what one of the finest painters of nature calls, 
a dun obscurity. Only a few very superior eminences are tipt 
with streaming silver. The tops of groves, and lofty towers, 
catch the last smiles of day j * are still irradiated by the de- 
parting beams. — But, O ! how transient is the distinction ! how 
momentary the gift ! Like all the blessings, which mortals en- 
joy below, it is gone, almost as soon as granted. See! how 
languishingly it trembles on the leafy spire ; and glimmers, 
with a dying faintness, on the mountain's brow. The little vi- 
vacity that remains, decays every moment. It can no longer 
hold its station. While I speak, it expires ; and resigns the 
world to the gradual approaches of night. 

— Now Twilight grey 
Kas in her sober liv'ry all things clad.f 

Every object, a little while ago, glared with light; but now 
all appears under a more qualified lustre. The animals har- 
monize with the insensible creation ; and what was gay in those, 
as well as glittering in this, gives place to an universal gra- 
vitv. In the meadows, all was jocund and sportive ; but now 
the gamesome lambs are grown weary of their frolics, and 
the tired shepherd has imposed silence on his pipe. In the 

* See this remarkable appearance delicately described, and wrought into 
a comparison, which, in my opinion, is one of the most just, beautitul, and 
noble pieces of imagery, to be found in modern poetry. Night-Thoughts, No. 
II. p. 42. 4to edit. 

t Milt. Par. Lost, b. IV. 1. 698. 



ON THE NIGHT 17;~ 

branches, all was sprightliness and song : but now the lively 
green is wrapt in the descending- glooms; and no tuneful airs 
are heard, only the plaintive stock-dove, cooing mournfully 
through the grove. — Should I now be vain and trifling, the 
heavens and the earth would rebuke my unseasonable levity. 
Therefore, be these moments devoted to thoughts sedate as 
the closing day, solemn as the face of things. And indeed, 
however my social hours are enlivened with innocent pleasant- 
ry, let every evening, in her sable habit, toll the bell to serious 
consideration. Nothing can be more proper, for a person who 
walks on the borders of eternity, and is hasting continually 
to his final audit ; nothing more proper, than daily to slip away 
from the circle of amusements, and frequently to relinquish 
the hurry of business, in order to consider and adjust " the 
things that belong to his peace." 

Since the sun is departed, from whence can it proceed, 
that I am not involved in pitchy darkness ? Whence these re- 
mainders of diminished brightness ? which though scarcely 
forming a refulgence, soften and sooth the horrors of night. 
I see not the shining ruler, yet am cheered with a real, though 
faint communication of his splendour. — Does he remember us, 
in his progress through other climes ? Does he send a detach- 
ment of his rays to escort us during his personal absence ; or 
to cover (if 1 may use the military term) our retreat from 
the scene of action ? Has he bequeathed us a dividend of his 
beams, sufficient to render our circumstances easy, and our 
situation agreeable ? till sleep pours its soft oppression on the 
organs of sense ; till sleep suspends all the operations of our 
hands, and entirelv supersedes any farther occasion for the 
light 

No: It is ill-judged and unreasonable, to ascribe this be- 
neficent conduct to the sun. Not unto him, not unto him ; but 
unto his Almighty Maker, we are obliged, for this pleasing 
attendant, this valuable legacy. The gracious Author of our 
being has so disposed the collection of circumambient air, as 
to make it productive of this fine and wonderful effect. The 
sun-beams, falling on the higher parts of the aerial fluid, in- 
stead of passing on in straight lines,- are bent inwards, and 
conducted to our sight. Their natural course is over-ruled, 
and they are bidden to wheel about, on purpose to favour us 
with a welcome and salutary visit. — By which means, the 
blessing of light, and the season of business, are considera- 
bly prolonged ; arid what is a very endearing circumstance, 
prolonged most considerably, when the vehement heats of 
Summer incline the student to nostpone his walk, till the 
P2 



^ 



174 CONTEMPLATIONS 

temperate evening- prevails ; when the important labours of 
the harvest call the husbandman abroad, before the day is 
fully risen. 

After all the ardours of the sultry day, how reviving- is this 
coolness! — This gives new verdure to the fading- plants, new 
vivacity to the withering- flowers, and a more exquisite fra- 
grance to their mingled scents. — By this, Hie air also receives 
a new force, and is qualified to exert itself with greater acti- 
vity ; qualified to brace our limbs ; to heave our lungs ; and 
co-operate, with a brisker impulse, in perpetuating the circu- 
lation of our blood. — This I might call the grandalembic of 
Nature ; which distils her most sovereign cordial, the refresh- 
ing dews. Incessant heat would rob us of their beneficial 
agency ; and oblige them to evaporate, in imperceptible ex- 
halations. Turbulent winds, or even the gentler motions of 
Aurora's fan, would dissipate the rising vapours, and not suf- 
fer them to form a coalition. But, favoured by the stilness, 
and condensed by the coolness of the night, they unite in 
pearly drops, and create that finely-tempered humidity, which 
cheers the vegetable world, as sleep exhilerates the animal. 

Not unlike to these are the advantages of solitude. The 
world is a troubled ocean ; and who can erect stable purposes 
on its fluctuating waves ? The world is a school of wrong ; and 
who does not feel himself warping, to its pernicious influences?* 
On this sea of glassjj - how insensibly we slide from our own 
stedfastness ! Some sacred truth, which was struck in lively 
characters on our souls, is obscured, if not obliterated. Some 
worthy resolution, which heaven had wrought in our breasts, 
is shaken, if not overthrown. Some enticing vanity, which we 
had solemnly renounced, again practises its wiles, and again 
captivates our affections. How often has an unweary glance 
kindled a fever of irregular desire in our hearts ? How often 
has a word of applause dropt luscious poison into our 
ears : or some disrespectful expression raised a gust of pas- 
sion in our bosoms ? Our innocence is of so tender a constitu- 
tion, that it suffers in the promiscuous croud. Our purity is 
of so delicate a complexion, that it scarce touches on the 
world, without contracting a stain. We see, we hear, with peril. 

But here Safety dwells. Every meddling and intrusive avo- 
cation is secluded. Silence holds the door against the strife 
ef tongues, and all the impertinencies of idle conversation. 

• N'unquam a turba mores, quos extuH. reftro. Aliquid. ex eo quod com- 
posui, turbatur : aliquid, ex kis quae fugavi, redit. Iniinica estmultorum con- 
wrsatw. Senee. 

t Re v. xv. 2, 






ON THE NIGHT. 175 

The busy swarm of vain images, and cajoling temptations j 
which beset us, with a buzzing importunity, amidst the 
gaieties of life ; are chased by these thickening shades.— 
Here I may, without disturbance, commune with my own 
heart ; and learn that best of sciences, to know myself. Here 
the soul m.y rally her dissipated powers, and grace recover 
its native energy. — This is the opportunity, to rectify every 
evil impression ; to expel the poison, and guard against the 
contagion, of corrupting examples. This is the place where 
I may, with advantage, apply myself to subdue the rebel 
within ; and be master, not of a sceptre, but of myself— 
Throng then, ye ambitious, the levees of the powerful ; I will 
be punctual in my assignations with solitude. To a mind intent 
upon its own improvement, solitude has charms incomparably 
more engaging, than the entertainments presented in the thea- 
tre, or the honours conferred in the drawing-room. 

I said, solitude — Am 1 then alone ? — 'Tis true, my acquaint- 
ance are at a distance. I have stole away from company, and 
am remote from all human observation, — But that is an 
alarming thoug'ht, 

Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth, 
Unseen, both when we wake, and when we sleep.* 

Perhaps, there may be numbers of those invisible beings 
patrolling this same retreat ; and joining with me, in con- 
templating the Creator's works. Perhaps those ministering 
spirits, who rejoice at the conversion of a sinner, and hold up 
the goings of the righteous, may follow us to the lonely re= 
cess; and, even in our most solitary moments, be our constant 
attendants. What a pleasing awe is awakened by such a re- 
flection ! How venerable it renders my retired walks ! 1 am 
struck with reverence, as under the roof of some sacred edi- 
fice, or in the presence-chamber of some mighty monarch — 
O ! may I never bring any pride of imagination, nor indulge 
the least dissolute affection, where such refined and exalted 
intelligences exercise their watch ! 

'Tis possible, that I am encompassed with such a cloud of 
witnesses ; but it is certain, that God, the infinite eternal God, 
is now and ever with me. The great Jehovah, before whom 
all the angelic armies bow their heads, and Veil their faces, 
sitfrounds me ; supports me ; pervades me. " In Him t live, 
move, and have my being.'* — The whole world is his august 
temple ; and, in the most sequestered corner, I appear before 
his adorable Majesty, no less than when I worship in his house, 

* Milt. Par. Lost, b. IV. L 6*7, 



If6 CONTEMPLATIONS 

or kneel at his altar. In every place, therefore, let me pay 
him the homage of a heart, cleansed from idols, and devoted 
to his service. In every circumstance, let me feel no ambition 
but to please him, nor covet any happiness, but to enjoy him. 

How sublime is the description, and how striking' the sen- 
timents, in that noble passage of the Psalms ! " Whither shall 
I go from thy Spirit, or whither shall 1 flee from thy presence ? 
If I climb up into the heights of heaven, thou art there, en- 
throned in light. If I go down to the depths of the grave, 
thou are there also, in thy pavilion of darkness. If I retire to 
the remotest Eastern climes, where the morning first takes 
wing : If, swifter than the darting ray, I pass to the opposite 
regions of the West, and remain in the uttermost parts of the 
sea :"* Shall I, in that distant situation, be beyond thy reach ; 
or, by this sudden transition, escape thy notice ! So far from 
it, that could I, with one glance of thought, transport myself 
beyond all the bounds of creation, I should still be encircled 
with the immensity of thy essence ; or rather, still be enclos- 
ed in tlfe hollow of thy hand. — Awful, yet delightful truth ! 
Let it be interwoven with every thought ! and become one 
with the very consciousness of my existence ! that I may con- 
tinually walk with God ; and conduct myself, in every step of 
my behaviour, " as seeing him that is invisible." 

They are the happy persons ; felicity, true felicity, is all 
their own ; who live under an habitual sense of God's omni- 
presence, and a sweet persuation of his special love. If dan- 
gers threaten, their impregnable defence is at band. No- 
thing can be so near to terrify, as their Almighty Guardian to 
secure them. — To these the hours can never be tedious ; and 
it is impossible for them to be alone. Do they step aside from 
the occupations of animal life ! A more exalted set of employ- 
ments engage their attention. They address themselves, in all 
the various acts of devotion, to their heavenly Father ; who 
now sees in secret, and will hereafter reward them openly. 
They spread all their wants before his indulg-ent eye, and dis- 
burden all their sorrows into his compassionate bosom. Do 
thev withdraw from human society? The} find themselves un- 
der the more immediate regards of their maker. If they re- 
sign the satisfactions of social intercourse, it is to cultivate a 

* Psal.cxxxix. 7, R, 9. There is, I think, an additional strength and beau- 
ty in the thought, if, with the learned Mr. Mudge, W6 subpose an antithe- 
sis between the two clauses of the last verse, as there evidently is between 
those of the preceding ; and that they express, in a poetical stj le. the ex- 
tremities of the East and the West. 



ON THE NIGHT. 177 

correspondence with the condescending Deity, and taste the 
pleasures of divine friendship. — What is such a state, but the 
very suburbs of heaven ? what is such a conduct, but an ante- 
past of eternal blessedness ? 

Now, my soul, the day is ended. The hours are all fled, 
They are fled to the supreme Judge, and have given in their 
evidence ; an evidence registered in heaven ! and to be pro- 
duced at the great audit. — Happy they whose improvement 
has kept pace with the fleeting minutes ; who have seized 
the important fugitives, and engaged them in the pursuit of 
wisdom, or devoted them to the service of virtue. 

Fugitives indeed they are. Our moments slip away silent- 
ly and insensibly. The thief steals not more unperceived from 
the pillaged house. — And will the runagates never stop ? No : 
where ever we are, however employed, time pursues his in- 
cessant course. Though we are listless and dilatory : the 
Great Measurer of our days presses on ; still presses on, in 
his unwearied career ; * and whirls our weeks, and months, 
and years away. — Is it not then surprisingly strange, to here 
people complain of the tediousness of their time, and how 
heavy it hangs upon their hands ; to see them contrive a va- 
riety of amusing artifices, to accelerate its flight, and get rid 
of its burden ? — Ah ! thoughtless mortals ! Why need you 
urge the headlong torrent ! Your days are swifter than a post ; 
which, carrying dispatches of the last importance, with unre- 
mitted speed scours the road. They pass away like the nim- 
ble ships ; which have the wind in their wings, and skim along 
the watry plain. They hasten to their destined period, with 
the rapidity of an eagle ; which leaves the stormy blast be- 
hind her, while she cleaves the air, and darts upon her prey -j- 

Now the day is gone, how short it appears ! When my fond 
eye beheld it in perspective, it seemed a very considerable 
space. Minutes crouded upon minutes, and hours ranged be- 
hind hours, exhibited an extensive draught, and flattered me 
with a long progression of pleasure. But, upon a retrospect 

* Sed fugit, interea, fugit irreparabile tempus. 

t Job ix. 25, 26. By these three very expressive images, the inspired poet 
represents the unintermitted and rapid flight of time. The passage is illus- 
trated with great judgment, and equal delicacy, in Dr. Grey's most ingeni= 
ous abridgment of Schultens.— Quae tribus in dementis velooissima, hicad-? 
mirabili cum emphasi eongeruntur. In terris, nil pernicius cursore, et qui- 
dem laeti quid ferente. Rapidius tamen adhuc undas, non secant, sed sa-? 
'pervolant, navigiola papyro contexta. Omnium rapidissime aerem grand.-* 
ibus aiis permetitur aqtrila, praecipiti lapsu mens in prsedum. 



IT'S CONTEMPLATIONS 

tive view, how wonderfully is the scene altered! The land- 
scape, large and spacious, which a warm fancy drew, brought 
to the test of cool experience, shrinks into a span. Just as the 
shores vanish, and mountains dwindle to a spot, when the 
sailor, surrounded by skies and ocean, throws Ins last look on 
his native land. — How clearly do I now discover the cheat 1 
May it never impose upon my unwary imagination again! I 
find, there is nothing abiding on this side Eternity. A long 
duration, in a state of finite existence, is mere illusion. 

Perhaps* the healthy and the gay, may not readily credit 
the serious truth ; especially from a young pen, and new to 
its employ. Let us then refer ourselves to the decision of the 
ancient. Ask some venerable old person, who is just march- 
ing off the mortal stage, " How many have been the days of 
the years of thy life ?"* It wasamonarch'squestion, and there- 
fore can want no recommendation to the fashionable world. — 
Observe, how he shakes his hoary locks, and from a deep 
felt conviction replies ; " Fourscore years have finished their 
" rounds, to furrow these cheeks, and clothe this head in snow. 
<( Such a term may seem long and large to inconsiderate 
" youth. But O ! how short, how scanty, to one that has 
" made the experiment ! Short, as a gleam of transient sun- 
" shine; scant}-, as the shadow that departeth. Methinks, it 
" was but yesterday that I exchanged my childish sports, for 
" manly exercises ; and now I am resigning them both, for the 
" sleep of death. As soon as we are born, we begin to draw 
" to our end : and how small is the interval between the cradle 
" and the tomb !" — O ! may we believe this testimony of ma-, 
ture age ! may every evening bring it, with clearer evidence, 
to our minds ! and may we form such an estimate of the little 
pittance, while it is upon the advancing hand, as we shall cer- 
tainly make, when the sands are all run down ! 

Let me add one reflection on the work to be done, while 
this shuttle is flying through the loomf A work of no small 
difficulty, yet of the utmost consequence ! — Hast thou not seen, 
hast thou not known, the excellent of the earth, who were 
living images of their Maker ? His divine likeness was trans- 
fused into their hearts, and beamed forth in all their conduct ; 

* Gen. xlvii. 8. Heb. Bib. 
t -My days are swifter than a wearer's shuttle. Job vtt. 6. 



ON THE NIGHT. 17V 

beamed forth in meekness of wisdom, and purity of affection ; 
in all the tender offices of love, and all the noble efforts of 
zeal. To be stamped with the same beautiful signature, and 
to be followers of them, as they -were of Christ : this, this is 
thy business. On the accomplishment of this, thy eternal all 
depends. And will an affair of such unspeakable 'weight ad- 
mit of a moment's delay, or consist with the least remissness ? — 
especially, since much of thy appointed time is already 
elasped ; and the remainder is all uncertainty, save only that 
it is in the very act to fly. — Or suppose, thou hadst made a 
covenant with the grave, and wast assured of reaching- the age 
of Methuselah ; how soon would even such a lease expire ? — 
Extend it, if you please, still farther, and let it be co-existent 
with Nature itself. How inconsiderable is the addition ! For 
yet a very little while, and the commissioned Archangel lifts 
up his hand to heaven, and swears by the almighty Name, 
That time shall be no longer.* Then abused opportunities will 
never return ; and new opportunities willnevermore be offer- 

* This alludes to the beginning of Revelations the xth ; which, abstracted 
from its spiritual meaning, and considered only as a stately piece of machin- 
ery, well deserves our attention ; and, I will venture to say, has not its supe- 
rior, perhaps not its equal, in any of the most celebrated masters of Greece 
and Rome.— All that is gloomy or beautiful in the Atmosphere, all that is 
striking or magnificent in every element, is taken to heighten the idea. Yet 
nothing is disproportionate; but an uniform air of ined'able majesty greatens, 
exalts, ennobles the whole.— Be pleased to observe the aspect of this august 
personage. All the brightness of the sun shines in his countenance; and all 
the rage of the fire burns in his feet. — See his apparel. The clouds compose 
his robe, and the drapery of the sky floats upon bis shoulders. The rainbow 
forms Ids diadem ; and that which a compasseth the heaven with a glorious 
circle," is the ornament of his head.— Behold his attitude. One foot stands on 
the ocean, the other rests on the land. The wide-extended earth, and the 
world of waters, serve as pedestals for those mighty columns— Consider the fic- 
tion. His hand is lifted up to the height of the stars. He speaks, and the re- 
gions of the firmament echo with the mighty accents, as the midnight desert 
resounds with the lion's roar. The aitillery of the skies is discharged at the 
signal ; a peal ol sevenfold thunders spreads the alarm, and prepares the uni- 
verse to receive his orders.— To finish all, and give the highest grandeur, as 
well as the utmost solemnity, to the representation, hear the decree that issues 
from his mouth. He sweai : sby him that liveth for ever and ever. In what- 
ever manner so majestic a person had expressed himself, he could not fail of 
commanding universal attention. But when he confirms his speech by a 
most sacred and inviolable oath, we are not only wrapt in silent suspence. but 
overwhelmed with the profoundest awe.— He swears,. That time shall be no 
longer. Was ever voice so full of terror ; so big with wonder ? It proclaims, 
not the fall of empires, butrthe final period of things. It strikes ofFthe wheels 
of nature ; bids ages and generations cease to roll ; and, with one potent 
word, consigns a whole world over to dissolution. — This is one among a mul- 
titude of very sublime and masterly strokes, to be found in that too much ne- 
glected book—the Bible. 



180 CONTEMPLATIONS- 

ed. Then, should negligent mortals wish — wish ever so pas- 
sionately—for afew hours — a few momenis only — to be thrown 
back from the opening Eternity, thousands of worlds would 
not be able to procure the grant. 

Shall I now be industrious to shorten what is no longer than 
a span, or to quicken the pace of what is ever on the wing ? 
Shall I squander away what is unutterably important, while it 
lasts ; and when once departed, is altogether irrevocable ? O ! 
my soul, forbear the folly, forbear the desperate extravagance. 
Wilt thou chide as a loiterer, the arrow that boundeth from 
the string ; or sweep away diamonds, as the refuse of thy 
house ? — Throw time away. Astonishing, ruinous, irreparable 
profuseness ! — Throw empires away, and be blameless : But O 
be parsimonius of thy days; husband thy precious hours. 
They go connected, indissolubly connected, with heaven or 
hell.* Improved, they are a sure pledge of everlasting glory ; 
wasted, they are a sad preface to never-ending confusion and 
anguish. 

What a profound silence has composed the world! So pro- 
found is the silence, that my very breath seems a noise ; the 
ticking of my watch is distinctly heard ; if I do but stir, it 
creates a disturbance— -There is now none of that confused 
din from the tumultuous city; no voice of jovial rustics from 
the neighbouring meadow ; no chirping melody from the sha- 
dy thicket. — Every lip is sealed. Not the least whisper in- 
vades the air ; nor the least motion rustles among the boughs, 
Echojherself sleeps unmolested. The expanded ear, though 
all attention, catches no sound, but the liquid lapse of a dis- 
tant murmuring stream. 

* I remember to have seen, upon a sun-dial in a physician's garden at Nor- 
thampton, the following: inscription ; which, I think, is the roost proper mot- 
to for the instrument that measures our time, and the most striking admoni 
tion that can possibly be presented to every eye. 

Ab hoc momento pendct eternitas. 

The weighty sense of which, I know not how to express in English racn'e 
happily than in those words of Dr. Watts. 

Good God ! on what a slender thread j 

[Or, on what a moment of time] 
Hang everlasting things! t 



ON THE NIGHT. 118 

All things are hush'd, as Nature's self lay dead. 

If in the midst of this deep and universal composure, ten 
thousand bellowing thunders should burst over my head, and 
rend the skies with their united volleys ; how should I bear so 
unexpected a shock ? It would stun my senses, and confound 
my thoughts. I should shudder in every limb : perhaps sink 
to the earth with terror. — Consider then, O mortals ! consi- 
der the much more prodigious and amazing call, which will, 
ere long, alarm your sleeping bones. When the tenants of the 
tomb have slumbered, in the most undisturbed repose, for a 
multitude of ages ; what an inconceivable consternation must 
the shout of the Archangel, and the trump of God, occasion ! 
Will it not wound the ear of the ungodly ; and affright, even to 
distraction, the impenitent sinner I The stupendous peal will 
sound through the vast of heaven ; will shake the foundations 
of nature ; and pierce even the deepest recesses of the grave. 
And how, — O ! how will the prisoners of divine justice be able 
to endure that tremendous summons to a far more tremend- 
ous tribunal ? — Do thou^ my soul, listen to the still voice of 
the gospel Attend, in this thy day, to the gracious invita- 
tions of thy Saviour. Then shall that great midnight cry lose 
its horror, and be music in thy ears. It shall be welcome to 
thy reviving clay, as the tidings of liberty to the dungeon-cap- 
tive ; as" the year of jubilee to the harassed slave. This, this 
shall be its charming import ; ' Awake, and sing, ye that dwell 
in dust '* 

What a general cessation of affairs has this dusky hour in- 
troduced! A little while ago, all was hurry, hurry. Life and 
activity exerted themselves in a thousand, busy forms. The 
city swarmed with passing and repassing multitudes. All the 
country was sweat and dust. The air floated in perpetual agi- 
tation, by the flitting birds, and humming bees. Art sat pry- 
ing with her piercing eyes ; while Industry piled her restless 
hands, — But see, how all this fervent and impetuous bustle is 
fled with the sitting sun. The beasts are sunk to their grassy 
couch ; and the winged people are retiredto their downy nests. 
The hammer has resigned its sounding task, and the filV-cejis- 
es to repeat its flying touches. Shut is the well frequented shop, 
and its threshold no longer worn by the feet of numerous cus- 
tomers. The village-swain hes drowned in slumbers ; and even 
his trusty dog, who for a considerable time, stood sentry at 
the door, is extended at his ease, and snores with his master.— 

* Isa, xxvi. 19, 



182 CONTEMPLATIONS 

In every place Toil reclines her head, and Application folds 
her arms. All interests seem to be forgot ; all pursuits are 
suspended ; all employment is sunk away, sunk away with 
those fluttering myriads, which lately sported in the sun's de- 
parting- rays. — 'Tis like the Sabbath of universal Nature; or 
as though the pulse of life stood still. 

Thus will it be with our infinitely momentous concerns, 
when once the shadows of the evening (that long evening which 
follows the footsteps of death !) are stretched over us. The 
dead cannot seek unto God ; the living, the living alone, are pos- 
sessed of this inestimable opportunity.* " There is no work or 
*' device, no repentance or amendment in the grave,-}- whither 
" we are all hasting." When once that closing scene is advan- 
ced, we shall have no other part to acton this earthly theatre. 
Then the sluggard, who has slumbered away life in a crimi- 
nal inactivity, must lie down in hopeless distress, and everlast- 
ing sorrow. Then that awful doom will take place, " He 
" that is holy, let him be holy still ; and he that js filthy, let 
•« him be filthy for ever." 

Is it so, my soul ? is this the only, only time allotted for ob- 
taining the greatreward, and making thy salvation sure ? And 
art thou lulled in a vain security, or dreaming in a supine in- 
advertency ? Start, O ! start from thy trance. Gird up the lions 
of thy mind, and work while it is day— Improve the present 
seed-time, that eternity may yield a joyful harvest. — Wees- 
pecialby, who are watchmen in Israel, and ministers of the glo- 
rious gospel; may we be awakened, by this consideration, to 
alt assiduity in our holy office. Some or other of our people are 
ever and anon departing into the invisible state ; all our friends 
are making incessant approaches to their long home ; and we 
ourselves shall very shortly be transmitted to the confinement 
of the tomb. This is the favourable juncture, wherein alone 
we can contribute to their endless wel lure. This is the crisis, 
the all-important crisis, of their final felicity. Instantly, there- 
fore, let us pour in our wholesome instructions ; instantly let 
us ply them with our earnest exhortations. A moment's" de- 

* Behold! now is the accepted time. Behold! now is the day of salvation 
2 Cor. vi. 2. 

Haste, haste, he lies in wait, he's at the door, 
Insidious death ! shou'd his strong hand arrest, 
No composition sets the Pris'ner free 

t They who are e;one down to the sravo. are represented (I»a. xxxviii. 11./ 
by the phrase, Those that inhabit the land of intermission or cessation.— Which 



ON THE NIGHT, 185 

lay may be an irreparable loss ; may be irretrievable ruin. 
While "we procrastinate, a fatal stroke may intervene, and 
place us beyond the' power of administering-, or place them 
beyond all possibility of receiving- any spiritual good.* 

How frequently is the face of Nature changed ! and, by 
changing, made more agreeable ! — The long continued glit- 
ter of the day, renders the soothing shades of the evening 
doubly welcome Nor does the morn ever purple the east with 
so engaging a lustre, as after the glOora of a dark and dismal 
night.— "At present, a calm of tranquillity is spread through 
the universe. The weary winds ha\e forgot to blow. The 
gentle gales have fanned themselves asleep. Not so much 
as a single leaf nods. Even the quivering aspin rests. And 
not one breath ^curls o'er the stream. — Sometimes, on the 
contrary, the tempest summons all the forces of the air, 
and pours itself, with resistless fury, from the angry North. 
The whole atmosphere is tossed into tumultuous confusion, 
and the watry world is heaved to the cloud*. The astonished 
mariner, and his straining vessel, now scale the rolling moun- 
tain, and hang dreadfully visible on the broken surge ; now 
shoot, with headlong impetuosity, into the yawning gulf ; and 
neither hulk, nor mast is see"n.~ The storm sweeps over the 
continent ; raves along the city-streets, struggles through the 
forest-boughs, and terrifies the savage nations with a howl, 

prevents all appearance of tautology in the sentence ; and is. I think, a va- 
luable improvement of the translation ; as it conveys an idea, not only 
distinct from the .preceding, but of a very poetical and very afflicting- na- 
ture : such as was perfectly natural for the royal singer, and roya! suiferer 
to dwell upon, in His despondiug moments.— Thus interpreted, the sense 
will run: " I shall see man no more ; I shall be cut off from the cheerful 
" ways of men, and all the sweets 01 human society. And what is a farther 
** aggravation of the threatened stroke, I shall, by r.s taking place, benum- 
" bered w ith those that inherit the land of cessation and inactivity ; where 
" there will be no more possibility of contributing to the happiness of my 
" kingdom, no more opportunity of advancing my Creators glory, or of 
" making my own final sahatiou sure." — A sentiment like this is grand, im- 
portant, and full of benevolence ; removes all suspicion of unbecoming pu= 
siUanimity, and does the highest honour to the laonarclvs character. 

* The case represented by the prophet (1 Kings xx. 4G.) seems perfectly ap- 
plicable on this occasion. As thy servant was busy here and the te, he was 
gone. So, wh : le we are either remiss in our function, or laying ourselves 
out upon inferior cares, the people of our charge may be gone ; — go^e be- 
yond the influence of our counsels, beyond the reach cf oar prayer:.;— 
gane ima the unchangeable and eternal state. 



184 CONTEMPLATIONS 

more wildly horrid than their own. The knotty oaks bend 
before the blast j their iron trunks groan ; and their stubborn 
limbs are dashed to the ground. The lofty dome rocks ; and 
even the solid tower totters on its basis/ 

Such variations are kindly contrived, and with an evident 
condescension to the fickleness of our taste. Because a per- 
petual repetition of the same objects would ere at e satiety and 
disgust, therefore the indulgent Father of our race has di- 
versified the universal scene, and bid every appearance bring 
with it the charm of novelty. — This circumstance is beneficial, 
as well as entertaining. Providence, ever gracious to mor- 
tals, ever intent upon promoting our felicity, has taken care 
to mingle, in the constitution of tilings, what is pleasing 
to our imagination, with what is serviceable, to our interests. 
The piercing winds, and rugged aspect of Winter, render the 
balmy gales, and flowery scenes of Spring, peculiarly delight- 
ful. At the same time, the keen frosts mellow the soil, and 
prepare it for the hand of Industry. The rushing rains im- 
pregnate the glebe, and fit it to become a magazine of plenty. 
The earth is a great laboratory ; and December's cold collects 
ihe gross materials, which are sublimated by the refining 
warmth of May. The air is a pure elastic fluid ; and were it 
always to remain in this motionless serenity, it would lose 
much of its active spring- ; was it never agitated by those 
wholesome concussions, it would contract a noisome, perhaps 
a pestilential taint. In which cases, our respiration, instead of 
purifying, would corrupt the vital juices ; instead of supply- 
ing us with refreshment, would be a source of diseases ; on 
every gasp we draw, might be unavoidable death.* — *How then 
should we admire, how should we adore, that happy union 
of benignity and wisdom ; which, from a variety of dispensa- 

* Considering the immense quantity of coals, and other combustible ma- 
terials, which are daily consumed, and evaporate into the air; considering 
iWe numberless steams, and clouds of smoke, -which almost continually 
ovtrwhelmn populous cities; the noisome exhalations, which arise from 
thronged infirmaries and lothsome jails, from stagnating lakes and putrid 
fens ;— the variety of offensive and unwholesome effluvia, which proceed 
from other causes'; it i< a very remarkable instance of a Providence, at once 
, tenderly kind, and infinitely powerful, that mankind is not suffocated with 
stench ; that the air is not choaked with filth.— The air is the common sew- 
er, into which ten thousand times ten thousand nuisances are incessantly 
discharged ; yet it is preserved so thoroughly clear, as to afford the most 
transparent medium for vision ; so delicately undukitory, as to transmit, 
With, ail imaginable distinctness, every diversity of sound ; so perfectly 



ON THE NIGHT. 185 

lions, produces an unformity of good ? Produces a perpetual 
succession of delights, and an uninterrupted series of advan- 
tages ! 

The darkness is now at its height ; and I cannot but ad- 
mire the obliging manner of its taking place. It comes not 
with a blunt and abrupt incivility, but makes gentle and res- 
pectful advances. A precipitate transition, from the splendors 
of day, to all the horrors of midnight, would be inconvenient 
and frightful. It would bewilder the traveller in his journey ; 
it would strike the creation with amazement ; and, perhaps, be 
pernicious to the organs of sight. Therefore the gloom rushes 
not upon us instantaneously, but increases by slow degrees ; 
and, sending twilight before as its harbinger, decently adver- 
tises us of its approach. By this means, we are neither alarm- 
ed, nor incommoded by the change ; but are able to take all 
suitable and timely measures, for its reception.— Thus graci- 
ously has Providence regulated, not only the grand vicissi- 
tudes of the seasons, but also the common interchanges of 
light and darkness, with an apparent refernence to our comfort. 

Now the tierce inhabitants of the forest forsake their 
dens. A thousand grim forms, a thousand growling monsters, 
pace the desert. Death is in their jaws, while stung with hun- 
ger, and a thirst for blood, they roam their nightly rounds. — 
Unfortunate the traveller, who is overtaken by the night, in 
these dismal wilds ! How must he stand aghast, at the mingled 
yell of ravenous throats, and lions roaring after their prey I 
Defend him, propitious Heaven ! or else he must see his en- 
dearing spouse, and hail his native home, no more ! — Now 
the prowling wolf, like a murderous ruffian, dogs the shep- 
herd's footsteps, and besets his bleating charge. The fox, 
like a crafty felon, steals to the thatched cottage, and carries 
off the feathered booty. 

Happyfor the world, were these the only destroyers that 
walk in darkness. But, alas ! there are savages in human 
shape, who, muffled in shades infest the abodes of civilized life. 
The sons of violence make choice of thiis season,* to perpe- 
trate the most outrageous acts of wrong and robbery. The 

pure as to be the constant refiner of the fluids, in every animal that breathes, 

* —When Night 
Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons ' 

Of JBelial, flown with insolence and wine. 

MilL 

Q.2 



186 CONTEMPLATIONS 

adulterer waiteth for the twilight ; and, baser than the villain 
on the highway betrays the honour of his bosom-friend Now 
Faction forms her close cabals, and whispers her traitorous 
insinuations. Now Rebellion plans her accursed plots, and 
prepares the train to blow a nation into ruin. Now crimes, 
which hide their odious heads in the day, haunt the seats of 
society, and stalk through the gloom with audacious front. 
Now the vermin of the stews crawl from their lurking-holes, 
to wallow in sin, and spread contagion through the night ; 
each soothing himself with the fond notion, that all is safe; 
that no eye bees. 

Are they then concealed ? Preposterous madmen ! to draw 
'the curtain between their infamous practices, and a little set 
of mortals ; but lay them open to all these chaste and wakeful 
eyes of Heaven ?* as though the moon and stars were made, 
to light men to their revels, and not to God —Are they then 
concealed ? No, truly. Was every one of these vigilant lumina- 
ries closed; an eye keener than the lightning's flash, an eye 
brighter than ten thousand suns, beholds their every motion. 
Their thickest shades are beaming day,t to the Jealous In- 
spector, and Supreme Judge of human actions. — Deluded 
creatures ! have ye not heard, have ye not read, '« that clouds 
*' and darkness ara his majestic residence ?"t In that very 
gloom, to which you fly for covert, he erects his throne. 
What you reckon your screen, is the bar of his tribunal. O ! 
remember this ! Stand in awe, and sin not. Remember that 
the great and terrible God is about your path, when you take 
your midnight range ; is about your bed, when you indulge 
the loose desire ; and spies out all your ways, be they ever so 
secretly conducted, or artfully disguised. 

Some minutes ago, a passenger crossed along the road. His 
horse's foot struck the ground, and fetched fire from a flint. 
My eyes, though at a distance, catch ed the view; and saw, 
with great clearness, the transient sparkles : of which, had I 
been ever so near, I should not have discerned the least 
glimpse under the blaze of day. — So,J| when sickness has 

* — Sed luna videt, sed sidera testes 
Intendunt oculos. 

t This is finely, and very forcibly, expressed by the Psalmist : If I say, 
Peradventure the darkness shall cover me; then shall my night be turned to 
day ; or, as it may be rendered somewhat more emphatically, Even the night 
shall be broad day-light all around me. Psal. cxxxix. 10. 

i Psal. xcvii. 2. 

(l I beg leave to inform the young gentleman, whose name dignifies my de- 
dication, that this was a remark cf hb honoured Father, v.hen we rode tope* 



ON THE NIGHT. 18f 

drawn a veil over the gaiety of our hearts ; when misfortunes 
have eclipsed the splendour of our outward circumstances; 
how many important convictions present themselves with the 
brightest evidence ! Under the sun-shine of prosperity, they 
lay undiscovered; but, when some intervening cloud has 
darkened the scene, they emerge from their obscurity, and 
even glitter upon our minds. — Then, the world, that delusive 
cheat, confesses her emptiness ; but Jesus, the bright and 
Morning star, beams forth with inimitable lustre. Then vice 
loses all h^er fallacious allurements ; that painted strumpet is 
horrible, as the hags of hell ; but virtue, despised virtue, 
gains loveliness from a louring Providence, and treads the 
shades with more than mortal charms. — May this reconcile 
me, and all the sons of sorrow, to our appointed share of 
suffering ! If tribulation tend to dissipate the inward darkness, 
and pour heavenly day upon our minds ; welcome distress ; 
welcome disappointment; welcome whatever our froward 
flesh, or peevish passions, would miscal calamities. These 
light afflictions, which are but for a moment, shall Sit easy 
upon out spirits ; since they beft tend^our knowledge ; pro* 
Tnote our faith ; and so " work oufc-fbrfls a far more exceed- 
"«' ing and eternal weight of glory;"* 

How has this darkness snatched e\e\y splendid and grace- 
ful object from my sight ! It has dashed the sponge over the 
pictures of Spring, and destroyed all the delicate distinctions 
of things. Where are now the fine tinges," which so lately 
charmed me from the glowing parterre ? The blush is struck 
out from the cheeks of the rose, and the snowy hue is dropt 
from the lily. I cast my eyes toward a magnificent seat ; but 
the aspiring columns, and fair expanded front, are mingled in 
rude confusion. Without the sun, all the elegance cf the 
blooming world is a mere blank ; all their symmetry of archi- 
tecture, is a shapeless heap. 

ther. and conversed in a dusky evening. I mention this circumstance, part- 
ly to sesure the paragraph from contempt ; partly to gi ve him and the world - 
an idea of that eminently serious taste, which c ! i-ti;'?iiishecl ray deceased 
friend. — Theles> obvious the refaction, the r-.m-e clearly i r . oh coders a turn of 
niind remarkably spiritual ; which would suffer nothing to r scape, without 
yielding some religions improvement. The meaner the incident, the more 
admirable was that fertility of imagination, which could deduce the Sttbltmest 
tratbs from the most trivia] occurrences, 

* 2 Cor, iv. 17, 



188 CONTEMPLATIONS 

Is not this an expressive emblem of the loveliness, which, 
the Sun of righteousness transfuses into all that is amiable ? 
Was it not for Jesus, and his merits, I should sigh with an- 
guish of spirit ; even while I rove through ranks of the most 
beautiful flowers, or breathe amidst a wilderness of sweets. 
Was it not for Jesus, and his merits, I should roam like some 
disconsolate spectre, even through the smiles of creation, 
and the caresses of fortune. My conversation in this world, 
though dressed in the most engaging forms of external plea- 
sure would be like the passage of a condemned malefactor, 
through enamelled meadows, and bowers of bliss, to be broke 
upon the wheel, or to expire on the rack. But a daily reflec- 
tion on the Lamb's atoning blood, a comfortable trust, that 
my soul is reconciled through this divine expiation ; this is the 
ray, the golden ray, which irradiates the face of the universe. 
This is the oil of beauty, which makes all things wear a cheerful 
aspect ; and the oil of gladness, which disposes the spectatorto 
behold them with delight.* This, this is the secret charm, 
which teaches Nature, in all her prospects, and all her pro- 
ductions, so exquisitely to please. 

" Man goeth forth to his work, and to his labour, till the 
"evening." But then his strength fails; his spirits flag; and he 
stands in need, not only of some respite from toil, but of some 
kindly and sovereign refreshments. — What an admirable pro- 
vision for this purpose is sleep ! Sleep introduces a most wel- 
come vacation, both for the soul and body. The exercises of 
the brain, and the labours of the hands, are at once discontinue 

* Thus applied, that fine piece of flattery addressed to the Heathen Em- 
peror, is stnckly and literally true. 

Vultus ubi tuus 

Aft'ulsit populo, gratior it dies, 

Et soles melius intent. Horat. 

Which I would cast in a Christian mould, and thus translate: 

When Faith presents the Saviour's death, 

And whispers, •' This is thine ;" 
Sweetly my rising hours advance, 

And peacefully decline. 

While such my views, the radiant sun 

Sheds a more sprightly ray; 
Each object smiles : all Nature charms J 

I «ng my cares away. 



ON THE NIGHT. 189 

ed. So that the weary limbs repair their exhausted vigour ; 
while the pensive thoughts drop their load of sorrows, and the 
busy ones rest from the fatigue of application. — Must reviv- 
ing cordial : equally beneficial to our animal and intellectual 
powers. It supplies the fleshly machine, and keeps all its nice 
movements in a proper posture for easy play. It animates the 
thinking faculties with fresh alacrity, and rekindles their ar- 
dor for the studies of the dawn. Without these enlivening re- 
cruits, how soon would the most robust constitution be wast- 
ed into a walking skeleton ; and the most learned sage degene- 
rate into a hoary idiot! — Some time ago, I beheld with sur- 
prise poor Florio. His air was wild; his countenance mea- 
gre ; his thoughts roving, and speech disconcerted. Inquir- 
ing the cause of this strange alteration, I was informed, that 
for several nights, he had not closed his eyes in sleep. For 
want of which noble restorative, that sprightly youth (who was 
once the lifeof the discourse, and the darling of the company) 
is become a spectacle of misery and horror. 

How many of my fellow- creatures are, at this very instant, 
confined to the bed of languishing; and complaining with that 
illustrious sufferer of old, Wearisome nights are appointed to 
me!* instead of indulging soft repose, they are counting the 
tedious hours ; telling every striking clock; or measuring the 
very moments, by their throbbingpulse. How many, harassed 
with pain, most passionately long to make some little truce 
f with their agonies, in peaceful slumbers ! How many, sick 
with disquietude, and restless even on their downy pillows, 
would purchase this transient oblivion of their woes almost at 
any rate ! — -That which wealth cannot procure, which multi- 
tudes sigh for in vain, thy God has bestowed on thee, times out 
of number. The welcome visitant, punctual at the needed 
hour, has entered thy chamber, and poured his poppies round 
thy couch ; has gently closed thy eye-lids, and shed his slum- 
berous dews over all thy senses. 

Since sleep is so absolutely necessary, so inestimably valua- 
ble, observe, what a fine apparatus Almighty Goodness has 
made, to accommodate us with the balmy blessing-. With how 
kind a precaution he removes whatever might obstruct its ac- 
cess, or impede its influence ! He draws around us the cur- 
tain of darkness ; which inclines us to a drowsy indolence, and 
conceals every object that might too strongly agitate the 
sense. He conveys peace into our apartments ; and imposes 
silence on the whole creation. Every animal is bidden to tread 

* Job vii, ?. 



190 CONTEMPLATIONS 

softly, or rather to cease from its motion, when man is retiring 
to his repose. — May we not discern, in this gracious disposi- 
tion of tliing-s, the tender cares of a nursing-mother ; who 
hushes every noise, and secludes every disturbance, when she 
has laid the child of her love to rest ? So, by such soothing 
circumstances, and gently working opiates, he giveth to his 
beloved, sleep.* 

Another signal instance of a Providence intent upon our 
welfare, is, that we are preserved safe in the hours of slumber. 
How are we then lost to all apprehension of danger, even 
though the murderer be at our bed-side, or his naked sword at 
our breast ! Destitute of all concern for ourselves, we are un- 
able to think of, much more to provide for, our own security. 
At these moments, therefore, we- lie open to innumerable pe- 
rils ; perils from the resistless rage of flames ; perils From the 
insidious artifices of thieves, or the outrageous violence of rob- 
bers ; perils from the irregular workings^ of our own thoughts, 
and especially from the incursions of our spiritual enemy. 

* Psal. cxxvii. 2. 

1 1 think, it is referable only to a superintending and wacthful Providence, 
t^iat we are not hurried into the most pernicious actions, when our imagina- 
tion is heated, and our reason stupihed by dreams.— We have sometiu.es 
heard of unfortunate persons, who, walking in their sleep, haw thrown them- 
selves headlong from a window, and been dashed to death on the pebbles. 
And whence is it that such disastrous accidents are only related as pieces of 
news, not experien m. d by ourselves, or our families ? Were om minds more 
sober in their operations, or mure circumspect in their regards? No, verily : 
Nothing could be more wild than their excursions ; and none could be mure 
inattentive to their own welfare. Then fore, if we have laid us down, and 
slept in peace; it was, because the Lord vouchsafed us the sweet refresh- 
ment : If we rose again in safety, it was, because the Lord sustained us with 
his unremitted protection. 

Will the candid reader excuse me, if I add a short story, or rather a matter 
of fact, suitable to the preceding remark? — Two persons, who had been hunt- 
tag together in the day, slept together the following night. One of them 
was renewing the pursuit in his dream; and, having run the whole circle of 
the chace, came, at last, to the fall of the stag. Upon this, he cries out with 
a determined ardor, I'll kill him, I'll kill him ; and immediately feels for the 
knife, which he carritd in his pocket. His companion happening to be 
awake, and observing what passed, leaped from the bed. Being secure from 
danger, and the moon shining bright into the room, he stood to \iew the 
event. When, to his inexpressible surprise, the infatuated sportsman irave 
several deadly stabs, in the very place, where, a moment before, the throat 
and the life of his friend lay.— This I mention, as a proof tliat nothing hinders 
us, even from being assassins of others, or murderers of ourselves, amidst the 
mad sallies of sleep ; only the preventing care of Our Heavenly Father. 



ON THE NIGHT. 19i 

What dreadful mischief might that restless, that implacable 
adversary of mankind work, was there not an invisible hand to 
controulhis rage, and protect poor mortals ! What scenes of 
horror might he represent to our imaginations, and " scare 
us with dreams, or terrify us with visions !" * But, the Keeper 
of Israel, who never slumbers nor sleeps, interposes in our be- 
half; at once to cherish us under his wings, and to defend us as 
with a shield. — It is said of Solomon, " that threescore vali- 
ant men were about his bed ; all expert in war ; every one with 
" his sword upon his thigh, because of fear in the nigh t." J f But 
One greater than Solomon, One mightier than myriads of , 
armed hosts ; even the great Jehovah, in whom is everlasting 
strength, he vouchsafes to encamp about our houses, to watch 
over our sleeping minutes, and to stop all the avenues of ilt — 
O ! the unwearied and condescending goodness of our Crea- 
tor ! who lulls us to our rest, by bringing on the silent shades ; 
and plants his own ever- watchful eye as our sentinel, while we 
enjoy the needful repose. 

Reason now resigns her sedate office ; and Fancy, extra- 
vagant fancy, leads the mind through a maze of vanity. The 
head is crouded with false images, and tantalized with the 
most rediculous misapprehensions of things Some are expa- 
tiating amidst Fairy fields, and gathering garlands of visiona- 
ry bliss ; while their bodies are stretched on a wisp of straw, 
and sheltered by the cobwebs of a barn. Others quite insen- 
sible of their rooms of state, are mourning in a doleful dun- 
geon, or struggling with tbe raging billows. Perhaps, with, 
hasty steps, they climb the craggy cliff; and, with real anxie- 
ty fly from the imaginary danger. Or else, benumbed with 
sudden fear, and finding themselves unable to escape, they 
gave up at once their hopes and their efforts ; and, though re- 
clined on a couch of ivory are sinking, all helpless and distress- 
ed, in the furious whirlpool. So unacountable are the vaga- 
ries of the brain, while sleep maintains its dominion over the 
limbs ! 

But is this the only season, when absurd and incoherent ir- 
regularities play their magic on our minds ? Are there not those 
who dream, even in their waking moments I — Some pride 
themselves in a notion of superior excellency, because the roy- 

* What a complete master that malignant spirit is, in exhibiting vision- 
ary representations, appears from his conduct towards Christ, on .ht hiqrh 
mountain. And that he is too ready,!," not restrai ledby an ovcr-ru'ing pow- 
er, to employ his dexterity in afflicting mankind, is evident from h« treat- 
merit of Job*. See Luke iv. 5. Job vii. 14. 

i Cant. iii. 7. 8. 



192 CONTEMPLATIONS 

al favour has annexed a few splendid titles to their names ; or 
because the dying silk.- worm has bequeathed her finest tin tads, 
to cover their nakedness — Others congratulate their own sig- 
nal happiness, because loads of golden lumber are amassed 
together in their cotters ; or promise themselves a most super- 
lative-felicity indeed, when some thousands more are added to 
the useless heap — Nor are there wanting others, who gape after 
substantial satisfaction from airy applause ; and flatter them- 
selves with, I know not what, immortality in the momentary 
buz of renown. — Are any of these a whit more reasonable :n 
their opinions, than the poor ragged wretch in his reveries, 
who, while snoring under a hedge, exults in the possess. on of 
his stately pahtce and sumptuous furniture : — If persons, who 
are very vassals to their own domineering passions, and led 
captive by numberless temptations ; it these persons pique 
themselves with a conceit of their liberty, and fancy them- 
selves the generous and gallant spirits of the age : Where is 
the difference between theirs, and the madman's frenzy ; who, 
though chained to the floor, is throned in thought, and wield- 
ing an imaginary seeps ia : — In a word, as many as borrow 
their dignity from a plume of feathers, or the gaudy trappings 
of fortune ; as many as send their souls to seek for bhss in the 
blandishments offense, or m any thingshort of the divine fa- 
vour, and a well-grounded hope of the incorruptible inheri- 
tance ;* what are they but dreamers with their eyes open ; de- 
lirious, though in hea th ? 

Would you see their picture dm w ? n to the very life, and the 
success of their schemes calculated with the foess, 

cast your eye upon that fine representation exhibited by the 
Prophet " It shall be even as when a hungry man dreameth, 
and behold he eateth ; but he awaketh, and his soul is empty : 
Or, as when a thirsty man dreameth, and behold, he drink- 
eth ; but he awaketh, and behold, he is faint, 'and his soul 
hath appetite "j Such is the race, and such the pr'<zc, of all 
those candid ites for honour and joy, who run wide fiom the 
m?trk of the Rigb calling of God, in Christ Jesus. Thev live 
in vanity, and die in woe. — Awaken us, merciful Lord, from 
these noon-tide trances ! Awnken us, while conviction may 
turn to our advantage, and not serve only to increase our tor- 
ment. O ! let our " eyes be enlightened, to discern the things 
t( that are excellent;" and no longer be imposed upon by fan- 

* These pav? n sawd. and hoii f -f-rli <Miirht, 
A sober ecrtciity of waki: g blii.s, 



ON THE NIGHT, 193 

tastic appearances, which, however pompous tliey may seem, 
will prove more empty than the visions of the night, more tran- 
sient than the dream that is forgotten. 

Having mentioned sleep and dreams, let me once again 
consider those remarkable incidents of our frame ; so very re- 
markable, that I may venture to call them a kind of experi- 
mental mystery, and little less than a standing miracle. — Behold 
the most vigorous constitution, when stretched on the bed of 
ease, and totally resigned to the slumbers of the night. Its 
activity is oppressed with fetters of indolence ; its strength is 
consigned over to a temporary annihilation ; the nerves are 
like a bow unstrung, and the whole animal system is like a 
motionless log. — Behold a person of the most delicate sensa- 
tions, and amiable dispositions. His eyes, though thrown 
wide open, admit not the visual ray ; at least, distinguish not 
objects. His ears, with the organs unimpaired, and articu- 
late accents beating upon the drum, perceive not the sound ; 
at least, apprehend not the meaning. The senses, and their 
exquisitely-fine feelings, are overwhelmed with an unaccount- 
able stupefaction. You call him a social creature ; but where 
are his social affections ? He knows not the Father that begat 
him, and takes no notice of the Friend that is as his own soul. 
The wife of his bosom may expire by his side, and lie lie more 
unconcerned than a barbarian. The children of his body may 
be tortured with the severest pangs ; and he, even in the 
same chamber, remain untouched with the least commisera- 
tion. — Behold the most ingenious scholar; whose judgment 
is piercing, and able to trace the most intricate difficulties of 
science ; his taste refined, and quick to relish all the beauties 
of sentiment and composition. Yet, at this juncture, the 
thinking faculties are unhinged, and the intellectual ceconomy 
quite disconcerted. Instead of close connected reasonings, 
nothing but a disjointed huddle of absurd ideas ; instead of 
well- digested principles, nothing but a disorderly jumble of 
crude conceptions. The most palpable delusions impose up- 
on his imagination. The whole night passes, and he frequent- 
ly mistakes it for a single minute ; is not sensible of the tran- 
sition, hardly sensible of any duration. 

Yet, no sooner does the morning dawn, and day-light enter 
the room, but this strange enchantment vanishes. The man 
awakes, and finds himself possessed of all the valuable en- 
dowments, which, for several hours, were suspended, or lost. 
His sinews are braced, and fit for action. His senses are alert 
and keen. The romantic visionary brighten? into the master 
of reason. The frozen or benumbed affections melt with ten- 

R 



CONTEMPLATIONS 

derness, and glow with benevolence. Arjd what is beyond 
measure surprising-, the intoxicated mind works itself sober, 
not by slow degrees ; but, in the twinkling of an eye, recovers 
from its perturbation. — Why does not the stupor, which dead- 
ens all the nice operations of the animal powers, hold fast its 
possession ? When the thoughts are once disadjusted, why are 
they not always in confusion ? How is it, that they are rallied 
in a moment ; and, from the wildest irregularity, reduced to 
the most orderly array ? — From an inactivity resembling death, 
how is the body so suddenly restored to vigour and agility ? 
From extravagances, bordering upon madness ; how is the 
understanding instantaneously re-established, in sedateness 
and harmony ? — Surely " this is the Lord's doings, and it 
" should be marvellous in our eyes ;" should awaken our gra- 
titude, and inspirit our praise. 

This is the time in which ghosts are supposed to make 
their appearance. Now the timorous imagination teems with 
phantoms, and creates numberless terrors to itself. Now- 
dreary forms, in sullen state, stalk along the gloom ; or, swift- 
er than lightning, glide across the shades. Now voices more 
than mortal* are heard from the echoing vaults, and groans 
issue from the hollow tombs. Now melancholy spectres vi- 
sit the ruins of ancient monasteries, and frequent the solitary 
dwellings of the dead. They pass and repass, in unsubstan- 
tial images, along the forsaken galleries ; or take their deter- 
mined stand over some lamented grave — How often has the 
school-boy fetched a long circuit, and trudged many a need- 
less step, in order to avoid the haunted churchyard? Or, if 
necessity, sad necessity, has obliged him to cross the spot, 
where human sculls are lodged below, and the baleful yews 
shed supernumerary horrors above ! a thousand hideous sto- 
ries rush into his memory. — Fear adds wings to his feet ; he 
scarce touches the ground ; dares not once look behind him ; 
and blesses his good fortune, if no frightful sound purred at 
his heels, if no ghastly shape bolted upon his sight. 

It is strange, to observe the excessive timidity which pos- 
sesses many people's minds, on this fanciful occasion ; while 
they are void of all concern, on others of the most tremendous 
import. Those who are startled, in any dark and lonely walk, 
at the very apprehension of a single spectre, are. nevertheless 
unimpressed at the sure prospect of entering into a whole 



* Vox quoque per lucos \ulgo exatulita silent?* 
Ingens, et simulacra inudis pallenu'a mim 
Visa sub obseurum ooetls. 



Vfrg. 



ON THE NIGHT. 195 

world of disembodied beings ; nay, are without any emotions 
of awe, though they know themselves to be hastening into the 
presence of the great, Infinite, and Eternal Spirit. — Should 
some pale messenger from the regions of the dead, drawback 
cur curtains at the hour of midnight ; and appointing some 
particular pktce, say, as the horrid apparition to Brutus, I'll 
meet thee there.* I believe the boldest heart would feel some- 
thing like a panic ; would seriously think upon the adventure, 
and be in pain for the event. But, when a voice from Heaven 
cries, in the awakening language of the prophet, Prepare to 
meet thy God, O Israel ;| how little is the warning regarded ! 
how soon is it forgot ! Preposterous stupidity ! to be utterly 
unconcerned, where it is the truest wisdom to take the alarm ; 
and to be all trepidation, where there is nothing really terri- 
ble ! — Do thou, my soul, remember thy Saviour's admonition ; 
" I will forewarn you, whom you shall fear. Fear not these 
" imaginary horrors of the night : But fear that awful Being, 
" whose revelation of himself, though with expressions of pe- 
' f culiar mercy, made Moses, his favourite servant, tremble ex- 
" ceedingly. Whose manifestation, when he appears with 
"purposes of inexorable vengeance, w T ill make mighty con- 
" querors, who were familiar with dangers, and estranged to 
*' dismay, call upon the mountains to fall on them, and the 
" rocks to cover them: The menace of whose Majestic eye, 
". when he comes attended with thousand thousands of his 
" immortal hosts, will make the very Heavens cleave asunder, 
"' and the earth fly aw r ay — O ! dread his displeasure ; secure 
" his favour ; and then thou mayest commit all thy other anxi- 
" eties to the wind ; thou mayest laugh at every other fear." 
This brings to my mind a memorable and amazing occur- 
rence, recorded in the book of Job ;± which is, I think, no 
Inconsiderable proof of the real existence of apparitions, [j on 
some very extraordinary emergencies ; while it discountenan- 
ces those legions of idle tales, which superstition has raised, 

* The story of Brutus, and his evil genius, is well known. Nor must it be 
denied, that the precise words of the spectre' to the hero were, rilmeetthee 
at Phillippi. Bat as this would not answer my purpose, I was obliged to 
make an alteration, in the circumstance of place. 

t Ames iv. 12. £ Job iv. 12. 14, &e, 

H" Is a proof of the real existence of apparitions.— if the sense in which I 
l#ve always understood this passage, be true.— EJiphaz, I apprehend, was 



196 CONTEMPLATIONS 

and credulity received Since it teaches us, that if at any time, 
those visitants from tbe unknown world render themselves 
perceivable by mortals, it is not upon any errand of" frivolous 
consequence, but to convey intelligences of the utmost mo- 
ment, or to work impressions of the highest advantage. 

It was in the dead of night. All nature lay shrouded in 
darkness. Every creature was buried in sleep. The most pro- 
found silence reigned through the universe. In these solemn 
moments, Eliphaz alone, all wakeful and solitary, was mu- 
sing upon sublime and heavenly subjects. — When, lo ! an aw- 
ful being, from the invisible realms, burst into his apart- 
ment.* A spirit passed before his face. Astonishment seized 
the beholder. His bones shivered within him ; his flesh trem- 
bled all over him ; and the hair of his head stood erect with 
horror. — Sudden and unexpected was the appearance of the 
phantom ; not such its departure. It stood still, to present it- 
self more fully to his view. It made a solemn pause, to pre- 
pare his mind for some momentous message. — After which, 
a voice was heard : A voice, for the importance of its mean- 
ing, worthy to be had in everlasting remembrance ; for the 
solemnity of its delivery, enough to alarm a heart of stone. 
It spoke ; and this was the purport of its words : — " Shall 
4< man, frail man, be just before the mighty God } Shall even 
f* the most accomplished of mortals be pure in the sight of his 

neither in a trance, nor in a dream, but perfectly awake.— Though he 
speaks of sleep; he speaks of it, as fallen not upon himself, but upon 
other men. He does not mention divams, though somnia, would have 
suited the verse (if the book be in metre) altogether as Well as viriones. 
—It could not surely be a wind, as some translate the word. Because th« 
circumstance of standing still is not so compatible with the nature of a 
wind ; and a wind would have passed above him, all around him as well as 
before him. Not to add, how low a remark it is, and how unworthy of a v 
place in so august a description, that he could not discern the form of a 
wind.— It seems, therefore, to have been a real spirit: Either angelical, 
as were those which presented themselves to Abraham resting at the door 
of his tent, and to Lot sitting in the gate of Sodom ; or else the spirit of 
some departed saint, as in the case of Samuel's apparition, or the famous 
appearance of Moses and Elijah on the mount of transf juration.— A spirit 
assuming some vehicle, in orde to become visible to thehuman eye: Which, 
accordingly, Eliphaz saw . exhibiting itself as an object of sight : but saw 
so obscurely and indistinctly, that he was not able cither to describe its as- 
pect, or to discern whom it" resembled. 

* I have given this solemn picture a modern dress ; rather for the sake 
of variety and iljuairation, than from any apprehension of improving fa 



ON THE NIGHT, 197 

«- s Maker <* Behold, and consider it attentively. He put no 
'* such trust in his most exalted servants, as should bespeak 
f< them incapable of defect. And his very angels he charged 
" with folly ; as sinking-, even in the highest perfection of their 
** holiness,' infinitely beneath his transcendent glories ; as fall- 
<( ing, even in all the fidelity of their obedience, inexpressibly 
" short of the homage due to his adorable Majesty. If angelic 
" natures must not presume to justify either themselves or 
tc their services, before uncreated purity ; how much more ab- 
" surd is such a notion, how much more impious such an at-" 
" tempt, in them that dwell in houses of clay ; whose origi- 
** nal is from the dust, and whose state is all imperfection !*' 
I would observe from hence, the very singular necessity of 
that poverty of spirit which entirely renounces its own attain- 
ments, and most thankfully submits to the righteousness of 
H:he incarnate God. — To inculcate this lesson, the Son of the 
Blessed came down from Heaven ; and pressed no other prin- 
cipal, with so repeatedj an importunity, on his' hearers. To 
instil +he same doctrine, the Holy Ghost touched the lips of 
the Apostles with sacred eloquence ; and made it an eminent 
part of their commision, "*to demolish every high imagina- 
tion." That no expedient might be wanting, to give it a deep 
and lasting efficacy on the human mind; a phantom arises 

admirable original. Such an attempt, I am sensible, would be more absurd- 
iy vain, than to lacquer gold, or paint the diamond. The description, in Eli. 
phaz's own language, is aia Cxft and affecting to the last degree ; a night-piece, 
dressed in all the circumstances of the deepest horror. I question, whether 
Shakespeare himself, though so peculiarly happy for his great command of 
terrifying -images, has any thing superior or comparable to this. Tlie judges 
of fine composition see the masterly strokes; and, I believe, the most ordina- 
ry reader feels them chilling his blood, and awakening emotions of dread in 
has mind. 

* There seems to be a significant and beautiful gradation in the Hebrew^ 
which I have endeavoured to preserve, by a sort of paraphrastic version. — 
The reader will observe a new turn given to the seutiuiem : preferable I 
think, to that which our English translation exhibits. Not, Shall roan be more 
just than God? But, shall man be just before, or in the sight of God? The 
passage, thus rendered, speaks, a truth incomparably more wt isWity, and need= 
ful to be inculcated : A truth, exactly parallel to that humbling confession 
of the Prophet. We are all as an unclean thing ; and to that soiemn declara- 
tion of the Psalmist, In thy sight shall no man living be justified. 

t It is well worthy of or.r observation, says an excellent commentator, 
! That no one sentence uttered by our Lord," is so frequently repeated as 
this, " Whosoever shall exalt himself, shall be abased ; and he that shall hum- 
ble himself shall be exalted." Which often occurs in the evangelists; but is 
never d*Jy accomplished '&-& us, till we disclaim all prtteusion to merit aiul 

R2 



198 CONTEMPLATIONS 

from the valley of the shadow of death, or a teacher descends 
frofti the habitation of spirits. — Whatever then we neglect, let 
us not neglect to cultivate this grace, which has been so va- 
riously taught, so powerfully enforced. 

Hark ! a doleful voice — With sudden starts and hideous 
screams, it disturbs the silence of the peaceful night. It is 
the screech-owl, sometimes, in frantic, sometimes in disconso- 
late accents, uttering her woes.* She fries the vocal grove, 
and shuns the society of all the feathered choir. The bloom- 
ing gardens, and flowery meads, have no charms for her. 
Obscene shades, ragged ruins, and walls overgrown with ivy, 
are her favourite haunts. Above, the mouldering precipice, 
nods, and threatens a fall ; below, the toad crawls, or the 
poisonous adder hisses. The sprightly morning, which awa- 
kens other animals into joy ? administers no pleasure to this 
gloomy recluse. Even the smiling face of day is her aver- 
sion ; and all its lovely scenes create nothing but uneasiness. 

So, just so, would it fare with the ungodly, were it possible 
to suppose their admission into the chaste and bright abodes 
of endless felicity. They would find nothing but disappoint- 
ment and shame, even at the foatuain head of happiness and 
honour. — For how could the tongue, habituated to profane- 
ness, taste any delight in the harmonious adorations of Hea- 
ven ? How could the lips, cankered with slander, relish the 
raptures of everlasting praise ? Where would be the satisfac- 
tion of the vain beauty, or the supercilious grandee? Since, 
in the temple of the skies, no incense of flattery would be ad- 
dressed to the former ; nor any obsequious homage paid to 
the latter. — The spotless and inconceivable purity of the bles- 
sed God, would flash confusion on the lascivious eye. The 
envious mind must be on a rack of self-tormenting passions, 
10 observe millions of happy beings, shining in all the perfec- 

righteousness of our own, and seek them only in the atonement and obedi. 
tnce of Jesus Christ. 

• Solaque culminibus fcrali carmine bubo 
Saepe queri, longasque In Actum ducere voces. 

Thus sung that charming genius, that prince of the ancient poets, that most 
consummate master of elegance and accuracy ; all whose sentiments are na- 
ture, whose every description h a picture, whose whole language is music. 

Firgif: 



OK THE NIGHT, 199 

tions of glory, and solacing themselves in the fulness of joy. — 
In short, the unsanctified soul, amidst holy and triumphant 
spirits ; even in the refined regions of bliss and immortality; 
-would belike this melancholy bird, dislodged from her dark- 
some retirement, and imprisoned under the beams of day.* 

The voice of this creature screaming at our windows, or 
of the raven croaking over our houses, is, they say, a token of 
approaching death. There are persons who would regard 
such an incident with no small degree of solicitude. Trivial 
as it is, it would damp their spirits, perhaps break their rest.— 
One cannot but wonder that people should suffer themselves 
to be affrighted at such fantastical, and yet be quite unaffect- 
ed with real, presages of their dissolution. Real presages of 
this awful event, address us from every quarter. What are 
these incumbent glooms, which overwhelm the world, but a 
kind of pall provided for nature; and an image of that long- 
night, which will quickly cover the inhabitants of the whole 
earth? What an affinity has the sleep, f which will very soon 
weigh down my drowsy eye-lids, with that state of entire ces- 
sation, in which all my senses must be laid aside ! The silent 
chamber, and the bed of slumber, are a very significant repre- 
sentation of the land, where all things are hushed, all things 
are forgotten. — What meant that deep death-bell note, which, 
the other evening, saddened the air ! Laden with heaviest ac- 
cents, it struck our ears, and seemed to knock at the door of 
our hearts. Surely it brought a message to surviving mortals, 
and thus the tidings ran ; "Mortals, the destroyer of your 
" race is on his way. The last enemy has begun the pursuit ; 
" and is gaining ground upon you, every moment. His paths 
*' are strewed with heaps of slain. Even now his javelin has 

* I would beg of the reader to observe, with what emphasis and propri- 
, ety our Lord touches this important point, in his memorable reply to !Nic» 
odemus. Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born again, be 
cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven ; q. d. " I wave the authority of 
** the Supreme Judge, and speak with the condescension of a teacher in Is- 
" rael. Though I might, without bting liable to the least controul, pass it 
" into a sovereign decree, that unrenewed mortals, who are slaves to cor- 
" rupt appetite, shall not enter the habitationsof the just ; I rather choose to 
" represent it as a case utterly impossible ; and charge the calamity, not 
" upon divine severity, but upon human lolly. Such persons, from the very 
" nature of things, preclude taemselves; they incapacitate their own minds; 
" and contrarieties must be re conciled, before they in their unregenerate 
" condition, can be partakers of those spiritual and sublime delights." John 
" iii. 3. 

t Et coasangukieus lethi sopor.— Prrg. 



£00 CONTEMPLATIONS 

" laid one of your neighbours in the dust ; and will soon, very 
" soon, aim the inevitable blow at each of your lives." 

We need not go down to the charnel-house, nor carry our 
search into the repositories of the dead, in order to find me- 
morials of our impending doom. A multitude of these re- 
membrances are planted in all our paths, and point the heedless 
passengers to their long home. I can hardly enter a conside- 
rable town, but I meet the funeral procession, or the mourn- 
ers going about the streets. The hatchment suspended on 
the walls, or the crape streaming in the air, are silent intima- 
tions, that both rich and poor have been emptying their hous- 
es, and replenishing their sepulchres. I can scarce join in any 
conversation, but mention is made of some that are given over 
by the physician, and hovering on the confines of eternity ; of 
others, that have justdropt their clay amidst weeping friends, 
and are gone to appear before the Judge of all the eaith. There 
is not a newspaper comes to my hand, but, amidst all its enter- 
taining narrations, reads several serious lectures of mortality. 
What else are the repeated accounts — of age worn out by 
slow-consuming sicknesses — of youth dashed to pieces by 
some sudden stroke of casualty— of patriots exchanging their 
treats in the seriate for a lodging in the tomb — of misers resign- 
ing their breath, and (O relentless destiny !) leaving their 
very riches for others ? Even the vehicles of our amusements 
are registers of the deceased ; and the voice of fame seldom 
sounds, but in conceit with a knell. 

These monitors croud every place ; not so much as the 
scenes of our diversions excepted. What are the decorations 
of our public buildings, and the most elegant furniture of our 
parlours, but the imagery of death, and trophies of the tomb 5 
That marble bust, and those gilded pictures, how solemnly 
they recognize the fate of others, and speakingly remind us of 
ur own I — I see, I hear, and O ! I feel this great truth. It : s 
interwoven with my constitution. The frequent decays of the 
•.ructure foretel its final ruin. What are all the pains, that 
have been darted through roy limbs ; what every dtsease, that 
has assuited my health ; but the advanced guards of the foe ? 
What are the languors and weariness that attend the labours 
of each revolving day, but the more secret practices of the 
•adversary, slowly undermining the earthly tabernacle ? 

Amidst so many notices, shall we go on thoughtless and 

Vnconcerned ? Can none of these prognostics, which are sure 

as oracles, awaken cur attention, and engage our circumspec- 

Noah, it is written, being warned of God, prepared an 

Imitate, roy soul, imitate this excellent example. 



ON THE NIGHT. 201 

monished by such a cloud of witneses, be continually putting 
thyself in a readiness for the last change. Let not that day, 
of which thou hast so many infallible signs^come upon thee un- 
awares. — Get the ivy untwined, and thy affections disentangled 
from this enchanting- world, that thou ma) est be able to quit it 
without reluctance. Get the dreadful hand-writing cancel- 
led, and all thy sins blotted out, that thou mayest depart in 
peace, and have nothing to fear at the decisive tribunal. Get, 
O ! get thyself interested in the Redeemer's merits, and trans- 
formed into his sacred image ; then shalt thou be meet for 
the inheritance of saints in light, and mayest even desire to 
be dissolved, and to be with Christ. 

Sometimes, in my evening- walk, I have heard 



-The wakeful bird 



Sing darkling, and in shadiest covert hid, 
Tune her nocturnal note.* 

How different the airs of this charming songster, from those 
harsh and boding outcries ! The little creature ran though ail 
the variations of music ; and shewed herself mistress of eve- 
ry grace, which constitutes or embellishes harmony. — Some- 
times she swells a manly throat, and her song kindles into ar- 
dor. The tone is so bold, and strikes with such energy, you 
would imagine the sprightly serenader in the very nextthick- 
et. Anon the strain languishes, and the mournful warbler 
melts into tenderness. The melancholy notes just steal upon 
the shades, and faintly touch your ear ; or, in soft and sadly- 
pleasing accents, they seem to die along the distant vale. Si- 
lence is pleased, and Night listens to the thrilling tale. 

What an invitation is this, to slip away from the thronged 
city? This coy and modest minstrel entertains only the lovers 
of retirement. Those who are carousing over their bowls, or 
ranting at the riotous club, lose this feast of harmony — In 
like manner, the pleasures of religion, and the joy of r. con- 
ciliation with God ; the satisfactions arising from an establish- 
ed interest in Chnst, and from the prospect of a blissful im- 
mortality ; these are all lost to the mind, that is ever in the 
croud; and dares not, or deli.erhts not, to retire into itself.^— 
Are we charmed with the nightingale's song ? Bo we wish 
to have it nearer, and hear it oftener ? Let us seek a renewed 

* JJilt. Par. LozU b. IJI. 1= 38, 



CONTEMPLATIONS 

heart, and a resigned will ; a conscience that whispers peace, 
and passions that are tuned by grace. Then shall we never 
want a melody in our own breast, far more musically pleasing 
than sweet Philomela's strain. 

As different as the voices of these birds, are the circum- 
stancces of those few persons who continue awake. — Some are 
squandering, pearls shall I say, or kingdoms ? No ; but what 
is unspeakably more precious, time ; squandering this inesti- 
mable talent with the most senseless and wanton prodigality. 
Not content with allowing a few spare minutes for the pur- 
pose of necessary recreation, they lavish many hours, devote 
whole nights, to that idle diversion of shuffling, ranging, and 
detaching a set of painted pasteboards — Others, instead of 
this busy trifling, act the part of their own tormentors. They 
even piquet themselves,* and call it amusement ; they are 
torn by wild horses, yet term it a sport. What else is the 
gamester's practice ? His mind is stretched on the tenter-hooks 
of anxious suspence and agitated by the fiercest extremes of 
hope and fear. While the dice are rattling-, his heart is throb- 
bing; his fortune is tottering: And possibly, at the very next 
throw, the one sinks in the gulf of ruin, the other is hurried 
into the rage of distraction. 

Some, snatched from the bloom of health, and the lap of 
plenty, are confined to the chamber of sickness : Where 
they are constrained, either to plunge into the. everlasting 
world, in an unprepared condition ; or else (sad alternative !) 
to think over all the follies of a heedless life, and all the bitter- 
ness of approaching death. The disease rages ; it baffles the 
force of medicine ; and urges the reluctant wretch to the 
brink of the precipice : While furies rouse the conscience, and 
point at the bottomless pit below. — Perhaps, his drooping mo- 
ther, deprived long ago of the husband of her bosom, and be- 
reft of all her offspring, is, even now, receiving the blow which 
consummates her calamities.f In vain she tries to assuage the 

* Alluding to a very painful punishment inflicted on delinquents among 
the soldiery. 

t This brings to my mind one of the deepest mourning-pieces extant in the 
production of the pen. The sacred historian paints it in all the simplicity of 
style, yet with all tin- strength of colouring.— When Jesus came nigh to the 
gate of the city, behold ! there was a dead man carried out, the only son of 
his mother, and she was a widow.— What a gradation is here ! How patheti- 
cally beautiful! Every fresh circumstance widens the wound; aggravate* 
the calamity; till the description is worked up into the most finished picture 
of exquisite and inconsolable di>tress.— He was a young man ; cut off in the 



ON THE NIGHT. 20i 

sorrows of a beloved son ; in vain she attempts with her ten- 
der offices, to prolong a life dearer than her own. He faints in 
her arms ; he bows his head ; he sinks in death. Fatal doub- 
ly fatal that last expiring pang ! While it dislodges the unwil- 
ling soul, it rends an only child from the yearning embraces 
of a parent, and tears away the support of her age from a dis- 
consolate widow. 

While those long for a reprieve, others invite the stroke;, 
Quite weary of the world, with a restless impatience, they 
sigh for dissolution : Some pining away under the tedious 
decays of an incurable consumption ; or gasping for breath, 
and almost suffocated by an inundation of dropsical waters, 
On some a relentless cancer has fastened its envenomed teeth 5 
and is gnawing them, though in the midst of bodily vigour, in 
the midst of pitying friends, gradually to death. " Others are 
on a rack of agonies, by convulsive -fits of the stone. O ! how 
the pain writhes their limbs ; how the sweat bedews their 
flesh ; and their eye-balis wildly roll ! Methinks the Night 
condoles with these her distressed children ; and sheds dewy 
tears over their sorrowful abodes. — But of all mortals, they 
are the most exquisitely miserable, who groan beneath the 
pressure of a melancholy mind, or smart under the lashes of 
a resentful concience. Though robed in ermine, or covered 
with jewels, the state of a slave chained to the galleys, or of 
an exile condemned to the mines, is a perfect paradise com- 
pared with theirs. 

O ! that the votaries of mirth, whose life is a continued 
round of meriment and whim, would bestow one serious re- 
flection on this variety of human woes ! It might teach them 
to be less enamoured with the few languid sweets, that are 
thinly scattered through this vale of tears, and environed with 
such a multitude of ragged thorns. It might teach them no 
longer to dance away their years, with a giddy rambling im- 
pulse ; but to aspire with a determined aim, after those hap- 
py regions, where delights, abundant and unembittered, flow. 

flower of life, amidst a thousand gay expectations, and smiling hopes. 
A son ; an only son ; the afflicted mother's all : So that none remained to 
preserve the name, or perpetuate the family. What rendered the case still 
more deplorable, she was a widow: Left entirely desolate ; abandoned to 
her woes ; without any to share her sorrows, or to comfort her under the 
irreparable loss.— Is not this a fine sketch of the impassioned and pictures- 
que ? Who can consider the narrative with any attention, and not feel his 
heart penetrated with a tender commiseration ? Luke vii. 12. 



204 CONTEMPLATIONS 

Can there be circumstances, which a man of wisdom would 
more earnestly deprecate, than these several instances of griev- 
ous tribulation ? There are ; and what is very astonishing, they 
are frequently the desire and choice of those, who fancy 
themselves the sole heirs of happiness : Those I mean who 
are launching out into the depth of extravagance, and run- 
ning excessive lengths of riot : Who are prostituting their re- 
putation, and sacrificing their peace, to the gratification of 
their lusts ; sapping the foundation of their health, in debauch- 
eries ; or shipwrecking the interests of their families, in their 
bowels; and, what is worse, are forfeiting the joys of an eter- 
nal Heaven, for the sordid satisfactions of the beast, for the 
transitory sensations of an hour — Ye slaves of appetite, how 
far am I from envying your gross sensualities, and voluptuous 
revels ! Little, ah ! little are you sensible, that while Indul- 
gence showers her roses, and Luxury diffuses her odours, 
they scatter poisons also, and shed unheeded bane: * Evils in- 
comparably more malignant, than the wormwood and gall of 
the sharpest affliction — Since death is in the drunkard's cup, 
and worse than poinards in the harlot's embrace, may it ever 
be the privilege of the man whom I love, to go without his 
share of these pestilent sweets ! j- 

Abundance of living sparks glitter in the lanes, and twin- 
kle under the hedges. I suppose they are the glow-worms ; 
which have lighted their little lamps,, and obtained leave, 
through the absence of the sun, to play a feeble beam. A 
faint glimmer just serves to render them perceivable, with- 
out tending at all to dissipate the shades, or making any 
amends for the departed day — Should some weather-beaten 
traveller dropping with wet, and shivering with cold, hover 
round this mimicry of fire, in order to dry his garments, and 
warm his benumbed limbs ; should some bewildered traveller, 
groping for his way, in a starless night and trackless desert, 
take one of these languid tapers, as a light to his feet, and 
a lantern to his paths : How certainty would both the one and 
the other be frustrated of their expectation ! — And are they 

* Y« : in the f.ow'rs that wreathe the sparhJing bow). 
Fell adders hiss, and pois'nous serpents roll. 

Prior's Sul. 

f Quanfsuave est snavkatibus istis ccrere • was St. Aupi:stine ? s pious ex- 
clamation. The substance of which Mr. Pope has espressed, with mom 
simplicity, and with no less dignity : 

Count nil th* .".dvantace prn«p'rous Vice attains; 
*Tis but what Virtue flies from, and disdains. 



ON THE NIGHT, 

more likely to succeed, who, neglecting- that sovereign balm, 
which distilled from the cross, apply any carnal diversion, to 
heal the anxiety of the mind > Who, deaf to the infallible de- 
cisions of revelation, resign themselves over to the erroneous 
conjectures of reason, in order to find the way that leadeth 
unto life ? Or, lastly, who have recourse to the froth of this 
vain world, for a satisfactory portion, and a substantial hap- 
piness ! Their conduct is in no degree wiser ; theirdisappoint- 
ment equally sure ; and their miscarriage infinitely more dis- 
astrous. To speak in the delicate language of a sacred wri- 
ter, "they sow the wind, and will reap the whirlwind." * 

To speak more plainly; the pleasures of the world, which 
we are all so prone to dote upon ; and the powers of fallen 
reason, which some are so apt to idolize ;f are not only vain, 
but treacherous : Not only a painted name, like those spark- 
ling animals : but much like those unctuous exhalations, which 
arise from the marshv ground, and often dance before the 
eyes of the benighted wayfaring man. Kindled into a sort of 
fire, they personate a guide, and seem to offer their service ; 
but, blazing with delusive light, mislead their follower into 
hidden pits, headlong precipices, and unfathomable gulfs ; 
where, far from his beloved friends, far from all hopes of suc- 
cour, the unhappy wanderer is swallowed up, and lost. 

Not long ago, we observed a very surprising appearance in 
the western sky. A prodigious star took its flaming route 



t I hope it will be observed, that I am far from decrying that noble facul- 
ty of reason, when exerted in her proper sphere ; when acting- in a deferen- 
tial subordination to the revealed ^.vnl of Heaven. While she exercises her pow- 
ers withiu these appointed limits, she is unspeakably serviceable, and cannot 
be too industriously cultivated.— But, when she sets up herself in proud con- 
tradistinction to the sacred oracles ; when, all-arrogant aud self-sufficient, she 
says to the word of scripture, I have no need of thee ; she is then, I must be 
bold to maintain, not only a glow-worm, but an ignis fatuus ; not only a bub- 
ble, but a snare. 

May not this remark, with the strictest propriety, and without the least limi. 
tation, be applied to the generality of our modern romances, novels, and 
theatrical entertainments ? These are commonly calculated to inflame a wan- 
ton fancy ; or, if conducted with so much modesty, as not to debauch the af- 
fections, they pervert the judgment, and bewilder the taste. By their iacre- 
dible adventures ; their extravagant parade of gallantry ; and their charac- 
ters, widely different from truth and nature; they inspire fooiish conceits; 
beget idle expectations; introduce a disgust of genuine history ; and indis- 
pose their admirers to acquiesce in the decent civilities, or to relish the sober 
satisfactions, of common Uie, 

S 



206 CONTEMPLATIONS 

through these coasts ; and trailed, as it passed, a tremendous 
length of lire, almost over half the heavens, home, I imagine, 
viewed the portentous stranger, with much the same anxious 
amazment, as Belshazzar beheld the hand- writing upon the 
wall. Some looked upon it as a bloody flag,* hung out by di- 
vine resentment, over a guilty world. Some read, in its glar- 
ing visage, the fate of nations, and the fall of kingdoms.-}- To 
others, it shook, or seemed to shake, pestilence and war from 
its horrid hair. — Fur my part, I am not so superstitious as to 
regard what eveiy astrologer has to prognosticate, upon the 
accession of a comet, or the projection of its huge vapoury 
train. Nothing can be more precarious and unjustifiable, 
than to draw such conclusions from such events: since they 
neither are preternatural effects, nor do they throw the frame 
of tilings into any disorder. I would rather adore that Omni- 
potent Being, who rolled those stupendous orbs from hiscrea- 
ting hand ; and leads them, by his providential eye, through 
immeasurable tracts of aether : Who bids them now approach 
the sun, and glow with unsufferable ardors ;t now retreat to 
the utmost bounds of our planetary system, and make their 
entry among other worlds. I 

They are harmless visitants I acquit them from the charge 
of causing, or being accessary to, desolating plagues. Would 
to God, there were no other more formidable indications of 
rpproaching judgments, or impending ruin ! But, alas 1 when 
vice becomes predominant, and irreligion almost epidemical : 
When the Sabbaths of a jealous God are notoriously profan- 
ed ; and that "name, which is great, wonderful, and holy," 
is prostituted to the meanest, or abused to the most execra- 
ble purposes : When the worship of our Great Creator and 
Preserver is banished from many of the most conspicuous fami- 



— Liqu:;la si quando nocte cometse 



Sanguinei lugubre rubent. Virg. 



— Crinemque timendi 

:, el terris mtitantcm regna cometem.- 



: ■• The cofnet in the year 16S0. according to Sir Isaac Newton's eoniputa- 
: - tlon, was. in its nearest approach, above 166 times nearer the sun than the 
,; earth i:. ' Consequently, its heat wns 28.000 times greater than that oi'sum- 
vi roer. So that a ball of iron as big as the earth, heated by it, would hardly 
* become cool in 50,0QQ years." 

Tterh. Astr. The*', p. 237. 



ON THE NIGHT. 207 

and it is deemed a piece of rude impertinence, so much 
as to mention the gracious Redeemer, in our genteel inter- 
views .- When it pusses for an elegant freedom of behaviour, 
to ridicule the mysteries of Christianity ; and a species of re- 
fined conversation, to taint the air with lascivious hints : 
When those who sit in the scorner's chair, sin with a high 
hand : And many of those who wear the professor's garb, are 
destitute of the power, and content themselves with the mere 
form of godliness : When such is the state of a community, 
there is reason, too apparant reason, to be horribly afraid. 
Such phenomena, abounding in the moral world, are not fan- 
ciful, but real omens. Will not an injured God " be avenged 
on such a nation as this V Will he not be provoked to sweep 
it with the besom of destruction !"* 

O ! that the inhabitations of Great Britain would lay these 
alarming considerations to heart ! The Lord of hosts has com- 
manded the sword of civil discord to return into its sheath. 
But have we returned every one from his evil ways ? Are we 
become a renewed people ; devoted to a dying Saviour ; and 
zealous of good works ! — What mean those peals of sobs, 
which burst from the expiring cattle ? What mean those me- 
lancholy moans, where the lusty droves were wont to low ?f 
What mean those arrows of untimely death, discharged on 
cur innocent and useful animals ? 

No wantonness or sloth has vitiated the blood of these labo- 
rious, temperate creatures. They have contracted no disease 
from unseasonable indulgences, and inordinate revellings. 
The pure stream is their drink ; the simple herb their repast. 
Neither care disturbs their sleep, nor passion inflames their 
breast. Whence then are they visited with such terrible dis- 
orders, as no prudence can prevent, nor any medicines heal ? — 
Surely these calamities are the weapons of divine displeasure, 

* Isa. xiv. 23. The Eternal Sovereign, speaking of Babylon, denoun- 
ces this threatening, I av III sweep it with the besom of destruction.— What 
a noble, but dreadful image, is here ! How- strongly and awfully portrayed i 
How pregnant also in its signification ! intimating the vile nature, and ex- 
pressing the total extirpation, of this wicked people; at the same time sug- 
gesting the perfect ease, w ith which the righteous God would excute Iris in- 
tended vengeance. 

f If these papers should be so happy as to outlive their auther, perhaps 
it maybe needful to inform posterity, that the abovt -mentioned hints allude 
to a most terrible, contagious, and mortal distemper, raging among the 
homed cattle, in various parts of the kingdom. 



#8 CONTEMPLATIONS 

and manifest chastisements of an evil generation.* Surely 
God, the '•' God to whom vengeance belongeth," has still a con- 
troversy with our sinful land. And who can tell, where the 
visitation will end? what a storm may follow those prelusive 
:-— O ! that we may " hear the rod, and who hath ap- 
" pointed it!" Taught by these penal effects of" our disobedi- 
e nee, may w ■ com ouv tents ; our 

practices, our hearts ! May we turn from aii ungodliness, be- 
fore wrath come upon us to the uttermost ; before iniquity 
prove our ruin ! 

Sometimes, at this hour, another most remarkable sight 
amuses the curious, and alarms the vulgar. A blaze of lam- 
bent meteors is kindled, or some very extraordinary lights are 
refracted, in the quarters of the North — The streams of radi- 
ance, like legions rushing" tat he engagement, meet and mingle, 
insomuch that the air seems to be ail conflicting tire. Within 
a while they start from one another ; and, like legions in pre- 
cipitate flight, sweep, each a separate way, through the firma- 
ment. Now they are quiescent , anon they are thrown into a 
quivering morion ; presently the whole horizon is illuminated 
with the glancing flames. Sometimes, with an aspect aw- 
fully ludicrous, they represent extravagant and antic vagaries : 
At other times, you would suspect, that some invisible hand 
was playing off the dumb artillery of the skies : and, by a 
strange expedient, giving- us the flash, without the roar. 

The villagers gaze at the spectacle, first with wonder, then 
with horror. A general panic seiz< ntry Every 

heart throbs, and every face is paU 

together, instead of diminishing, increase They 

catch, contagion from each other's looks i.nd words ; while fear 
is in every eye, and every tongue speaks the language of terror. 
Some see hideous shapes: armies mixing in fierce encounter, 
or fields swimming with blood. Some foresee direful events ; 
states overthrown, or mighty monarchs tottering on their 
thrones. Others, scared with still more frightful apprehen- 
sions, think of nothing but the day of doom. " Sure," says 
one, " the unalterable hour is struck, and the end of all things 
" come." — " See," replies another, " howthe blasted stars look 

* Hine Itetis vituli vulgo moriuimir in herbis, 
Et dulcts aiiimas plena ad praesepia n-ddunt. 
Balatu hinc pecornm. et debris mugitilius amnes, 
Arentesque sonant npse, collesque supini. Veti 

t Josh. vi. 1. 



-THE NIGHT. 209 

hese the signs of the Son of man, coming ia 
*' the clouds of Heaven:" — " Jesus ! prepare us" (cries a third 
and lifts his eyes in devotion) (i fov the Archangel's trump, 
" and the great tribunal." 

If this waving brightness, which plays innocently over our 
heads, be so amazing- to multitudes, what inexpressible con- 
sternation must overwhelm unthinking mortals, when the gen- 
eral conflagration commences ! The day, the dreadful day, is 
approaching ; " in which the Heavens shall pass away with a 
" great noise,* and the elements shall melt with fervent heat ; 
" the earth also, and all the works that are therein, shall be. 
" burnt up." That mighty hand, which once opened the win- 
dows frcm en high, and broke up the fountains of the great 
deep, will then unlock all the magazines of fire, and pour a 
second deluge upon the earth. The vengeful flames, ki 
by the breath of the Almighty, spread themselves from the 
centre to the circumference. Nothing can withstand their im- 
petuosity ; nothing can escape their rage. Universal desola- 
tion attends their progress. Magnificent palaces, and solemn 
temples, are laid in ashes. Spacious cities, and hi 
towers, are mingled in one smoking mass. Not only the pro- 
ductions of human art, but the works oi' Almighty Po »ve] 
fuel for the devouring element. The everlasting 
melt, like the snows which cover their summit. Ever, vas; 
oceans serve only to augment the inconceivable rapidity and fu- 
ry of the blaze. O ! how shall I, or others stand undismayed 
amidst the glare of a burning world, unless the Lord Jehovah 
be our defence ? How shall we be upheld in security, when the 

* 2 Pet. iii. 10. I have often thought this verse an eminent instance of that 
kind of beautiful writing, in which the very sound bears a sort of sig-nincan- 
ey: at least, carries an^xact correspondence with the sense. The original 
expression is one of the hoarsest and deepest words in language. Nothing 
could be more exquisitely adapted to affect the ear as well as impress the im- 
agination, with thewrecK of Nature, and the erash of a falling world. — I scarce 
ever read this clause, but it brings to mv mind that admired description in 
Milton : 



—On a sudden open fly. 



With impetuous recoil, and jarring sound. 

Th7 infernal doors, and on their hinges grate 

Harsh thunder. Book II. 1. 879. 

it is a pleasing employ, and a very laudable office of true criticism, to point 
out these inferior recommendations of the sacred clashes. Though, I believe, 
the inspired writers themselves, amidst all the elevation and magnificence- of 
their divine ideas, disdained a scrupulous attention to such little niceties ..." 

>tvle. 

S2 



2i0 CONTEMPLATIONS 

globe itself is sinking in a fiery ruin, unless the Rock of Ages 

be our support ? 

Behold ! a new spectacle of wonder ! The moon is making" 
her entry on the Eastern sky. See her rising in clouded ma- 
jesty ! opening, as it were, and asserting her original commis- 
sion to rule over the night. All grand and stately, but some- 
what sullied is her aspect. However, she brightens, as she ad- 
vances ; and grows clearer, as the climbs higher : till, at 
length, her silver loses all its dross ; she unveils her peerless 
light ; and becomes " the beauty of Heaven, the glory of the 
" stars ;"* delighting every eye, and cheering the whole world, 
with the brightness of her appearance, and the softness of her 
splendors. — O ! thou Queen of the shades ! may it be my am- 
bition to follow this thy instructive example ! While others are 
'bad to transcribe the fashions of little courts, and to mimic 
personages of inferior state ; be it mine to imitate thy im- 
proving purity ! May my conduct become more unblemished, 
and my temper more refined, as I proceed farther and farther 
in my probationary course ! May every sordid desire wear 
away, and every irregular appetite be gradually lost, as I make 
nearer approaches to the celestial mansions ! — Will not this be 
a comfortable evidence, that I too shall shine in my adored 
Redeemer's kingdom I shine with a richer lustre, than that 
which radiates from thy resplendent orb ; shine with an unfa- 
dir.g lustre, when every ray that beams from thy beauteous 
sphere, is totally extinguished ? 

The day afforded us a variety of entertaining sights. These 
were all withdrawn, at the accession of darkness. The stars, 
kindly officious, immediately lend us their aid. This served 
to alleviate the frown of night, rather than to recover the ob- 
jects from their obscurity. A faint ray, scarcely reflected, and 
not from the entire surface of things, gave the straining eye a 
very imperfect glimpse ; such as rather mocked, than satisfied 
vision. — Now the moon is risen, and has collected all her 
beams ; the veil is taken off from the countenance of Nature. 
I see the recumbent flocks : I see the green hedge-rows, 
though without the feathered choristers hopping from spray 
to spray. In short, I see once again the world's great pic- 
ked in its late lively colours, but more delicate - 
■ d arrayed in softer charms.f 

• Eeclus. xliii. 9. 

Lucid uin coeK deem.— Hot. 



— New reigns 



Full orb*d the moon, and with more pleasing lighr 
Shadow sits oil the face of things.— itf/ft. 



ON THE NIGHT. 211 

What a majestic scene is here ! incomparably grand, and 
exquisitely fine ! — The moon, like an immence crystal lamp, 
pendent in the magnificent ceiling of the heavens. The stars, 
like so many thousands of golden tapers, fixed in their azure 
sockets. All pouring their Lustre on spacious cities, and lofty 
mountains ; glittering on the ocean ; gleaming on the forest ; 
and opening a prospect, wide as the eye can glance, more va- 
rious than fancy can paint.* — We are forward to admire the 
performances of human art. A landscape, elegantly design- 
ed, and executed with a masterly hand ; a piece of statuary, 
which seems, amidst all the recommendations of exact pro- 
portion, and graceful attitude, to soften into flesh, and almost 
breathe with life ; these little imitations of Nature, we behold 
with a pleasing surprise. And shall we be less affected, Tess 
delighted, with the inexpressibly noble and completely finish- 
ed original '.—The ample dimensions of Ranelagh's dome t 
the gay illuminations of Vauxhall grove ; I should scorn to 
mention on such an occasion, were they not the objects of gen- 
eral admiration. Shall we be charmed with those puny essays 
of finite ingenuity ; and touched with no transport, at this 
stupendous display of omnipotent skill ? at the august gran- 
deur, and shining stateliness of the firmament? which forms 
an alcove for ten thousand worlds, and is ornamented with 
myriads of everlasting luminaries. — Surely, this must betray, 
not only a total want of religion, but the most abject littleness 
of mind, snd the utmost poverty of genius. 

The moon is not barely " an ornament in the high places of 
the Lord,"f but of signal service to the inhabitants of the 

* As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night, 
O'er heav'n's clear azure spreads her sacred light ; 
When not a breath disturbs the deep serene, 
And not a cloud o'ercasts the solemn scene, 
Around her throne the vivid planets roll, 
And stars unnumberd gild the glowing pole : 
O'er the dark trees a yellower verdure shed, 
And tip with silver ev'ry mountain's head ; 
Then shine the vales ; the rocks hi prospect rise ; 
A flood of glory bursts from all the skies ; 
The consciou i swains, rejoicing in the sight, 
Eye the blue vault, and bless the useful light. — Had. VIH, 



I transcribed these lines, because Mr. Pope says, they exhibit, in the origi- 
nal, the finest night-piece in poetry. And, if they are so beautiful in Ho* 
•uer's language, who can suspect their suffering any disadvantage from the 
pen of his admirable translator ? 



t E«cluJ. xliii. 



.CONTEMPLATE 

earth. — How uncomfortable is deep, pitcliy, total dar.- 
especiaily in the long- absence of the Winter's sun. Welcome 
therefore, thrice welcome, this auspicious gift of* Providence, 
to enliven the nocturnal gloom, and line with silver the raven- 
coloured mantle of nig-ht! — How desirable to have our Sum- 
mer-evenings illuminated ; that we may be able to tread the 
dewy meads, and breathe the delicious fragrance of our gar- 
dens ; especially, when the sultry heats render it irksome 
and fatiguing, to walk abroad by day. — How cheering to the 
shepherd the use of this universal lantern ; as he tends his 
fleecy charge, or late consigns them to their hurdled cots ! 
How comfortable and how advantageous to the mariner, as 
he ploughs the midnight-main, to adjust the tackling-, to ex- 
plore his way, and under the influence of this beaming sconce, 
to avoid the fatal rock! — For these, and other beneficial pur- 
poses, the hand of the Almighty has hung the stately branch 
on high ; and filled it with" a splendor, not confined to a sin- 
gle edifice, or commensurate to a particular square, but dif- 
fusive as the whole extent of the hemisphere. 

The most faithful of our inferior servants are sometimes 
tardy in their office, sometimes negligent of their duty. But 
this celestial attendant is most exactly punctual, at all the sta- 
ted periods of her ministration. If we choose to prolong- our 
journey, after the sun is gone down ; the moon, during- her 
whole increase, is always ready to act in the capacity of a guide. 
If we are inclined to set out very early in the morning ; the 
moon, in her decrease, prevents the dawn, on purpose to offer 
her assistance. And, because it is so pleasant a thing- for the 
eyes to behold the light, the moon, at her full, by a course 
of unintermitted waiting, gives us, as it were, a double day. — 
How apparently has the Divine Wisdom interested itself, in 
providing even for the pleasurable accommodation of man ? 
How desirous, that he should want no piece of commodious 
furniture, no kind of delightful convenience I and, in prose- 
cution of these benevolent intentions, has annexed so valuable 
an appendage to the terrestrial globe. — Justly, therefore, does 
the Psalmist celebrate that admirable constitution which or- 
dained the moon and the stars to govern the rdght, as an in- 
stance of rich goodness and of mercy which endureth for 
ever.* 

The moon, it is confessed, is no luminous body. All the 
brightness which beautifies her countenance, is originally in 
the sun, and no more than transmissively in her. That glori- 

* Psal. exxxvi. 9. 



ON THE NIGHT. 213 

cus orb is the parent of day, and the palace of light. From 
thence the morning-star gilds her horn ;* from thence the 
planetary circles are crowned with lustre ; and from thence the 
moon derives all her silver radiance.— It is pleasing tc -reflect, 
that such is the case with the All -sufficient Redeemer, and 
his dependent people. — We are replenished from his fulness. 
What do we possess, which we have not received ; and what 
can we desire* which we may not expect; from that never 
failing Source of ad good ? He is the Author of our faith, and 
the Former of our graces. In bis unspotted life, we seethe 
path ; in his meritorious death, the price ; and in his trium- 
phant resurrection, the proof, of bliss and immortality. If we 
offend, and fail seven times a-day ; he is the Lord our Peace.-f 
If we are depraved, and our best deeds very unworthy ; he is 
the Lord eur Righteousness. + If we are Wind, and even 
brutish, in heavenly knowledge : he is the Lord our Wisdom: |j 
His word dispels the shades ; his spirit scatters the intellec- 
tual gloom ; his eye looks our darkness into day. In short, we 
are nothing, and " Christ is all." Worse than defective in 
ourselves, " we are complete in him." So that if we shine, it 
is with delegated rays, and with borrowed light. We act by 
a strength, and glory in merits, not our own ! — O ! may we be 
thoroughly sensible of our dependence on the Saviour ! May 
we constantly imbibe his propitious beams; and never by in- 
dulging unbelief or backsliding into folly, withdraw our souls 
from, his benign influences ! lest we lose our comfort, and our 
holiness ; as the fair ruler of the nightloses her splendor, when 
her urn is turned from its fountain, § and receives no more 
communications of solar effulgence. 

The moon is incessantly varying, either in her aspect, or 
her stages.— Sometimes she locks full upon us, and her visage 
is all lustre. Sometimes she appears in profile, and shews us 

* I mi^ht, to justify this expression, observe, that the planet Venus, com- 
monly called the' morning-star, is fourci, V, ovy telesco;)es, frequently to ap- 
pear homed ; or to have a crescent of light, somt what like the moor., a little 
before or after her conjunction. Put this would be a remark too deep and 
refined for my scheme ; which proceeds only upon a superficial knowledge, 
and the most obvious appearances of Nature". 

t Judg. vi. 24. X Jer. xxiii. 6. j) 1 Cor. i. 30. 

i Alluding to those truly poetical lines in Jlilton ; 
Hither, as to their fountains, other stare 
.Repairing, in their golden urns draw light. 

Par. Lost. b. VII. 1. 354. 



214 C O N TE M 1 J L A TiONS 

only half her enlightened face. Anon a radiant crescent but 
just adorns her brow. Soon it dwindles into a slender streak : 
till, at length, ail her beauty vanishes, and she becomes a 
beamless orb.— Sometimes she rises with the descending day, 
and begins her precession amidst admiring multitudes. Ere 
long she defers her progress till the midnight watches, and 
steals unobserved upon the sleeping world. Sometimes she 
just enters the edges of the western horizon, and drops us a 
ceremonious visit. Within a while, she sets out on her night- 
ly touP, from the opposite regions cf the East; traverses the 
whole hemisphere ; and never offers to withdraw, till the more 
refulgent partner of her sway renders her presence unneces- 
sary. — In a word, she is, while conversant among us, still 
waxing or waning, and " never continueth in one stay.'* 

Such is the moon ; and such are all sublunary things ; ex- 
posed to perpetual vicissitudes. How often, and how soon, 
have the faint echoes of renown slept in silence, or been con- 
verted into clamours of obloquy ! The same lips, almost with 
the same breath, cry Hosannah, and Crucify. — Have not rich- 
es confessed their notorious treachery, a thousand and a 
thousand times ? Either melting away, like snow in our hands, 
by insensible degrees ; or escaping, like a winged prisoner 
from its cage, with a precipitate flight. — Have we not known 
the bridegroom's closet, an antechamber to the tomb; and 
heard the voice, which so lately pronounced the sparkling 
pair husband and wife, proclaim an everlasting divorce, and 
seal the decree with that solemn asseveration, " Ashes to 
'« ashes, dust to dust ?" — Our friends, though the modicine 
of life ; our health, though the balm of Nature ; are a most 
precarious possession. How soon may the first become a 
corpse in our arms ; and how easily is the last destroyed in 
its -.igour ! You have seen, no doubt, a set of pretty painted 
birds perching on your trees, or sporting in your meadows. 
You was pleased with the lovely visitants, that brought beau- 
ty on their wings, and melody in their throats. But could 
you insure the continuance of this agreeable entertainment? 
No, truly. At the least disturbing noise, at the least terrifying 
appearance, they start from their seats ; they mount the skies ; 
and are gone in an instant, are gone for ever. Would you choose 
to have a happiness, which bears date with their arrival, and 
expires at their departure ? If you could not be content with 
a portion, enjoyable only though such a fortuitous term, not 
of years, but of moments ; O ! take up with nothing earthly -, 



. ON THE NIGHT. 215 

set yoU? affections on things above; there alone is " no va- 
" riableness or shadow of turning'." 

Job is not a more illustrious pattern of patience, than an 
eminent exemplification of this remark.— View him in his 
private estate. He heaps tip silver as the dust, he washes 
} iis steps in butter, and the rock pours him out rivers of oil. — 
View him in his'public character. Princes revere his dignity; 
the aged listen to his wisdom ; every eye beholds him with 
delight; every tongue loads him with blessings.— View him 
in his domestic circumstances. On one hand, he is defended 
by a troop of sons ; on the other, adorned with a train of 
daughters ; and on all sides, surrounded by " a very great 
household." — Never was human felicity so consummate ; 
never was disastrous revolution so sudden. The lightning, 
which consumed his cattle, was not more terrible, and scarce, 
more instantaneous. The joyful parent is bereft of his off- 
spring, and his " children are buried in death." The man of 
affluence is stripped of his abundance ; and he who was cloth- 
ed in scarlet, embraces the dunghill. The venerable patri- 
arch is the derision of scoundrels 5 and the late darling of an 
indulgent Providence, is become" a brother to "dragons, a 
-" companion of owls " — Nor need we go back to former ages, 
for proofs of this afflicting truth. In our times, in all times, 
the wheel continues the same incessant whirl. And frequent- 
ly those w 7 ho are triumphing to-day in the highest elevations 
of joy, to-morrow are bemoaning the instability of mortal af- 
fairs, in the very depths of misery.* — Amidst so much fluc- 
tuation and uncertainty, how wretched is the condition, which 

* I believe 1 may venture to apply what the Ternanite says of the affairs 
of the wicked, to "all sublunary things, a; a true description of their very- 
great instability. Johxxii. 15. Their foundation (or -\\ hat they reckon their 
most solid and stable possession) is a flood poured out.— Which is one of the 
boldest i.nages. and most poetical beauties. I ever met with in any language, 
saered or profane. In order to have a tolerable conception of the image, and 
a taste of its beauty, you must suppose a torrent of waters, rushing in broken 
cataracts, and with impetuous rapidity, from a steep and craggy mountain. 
Then imagine to yourstlfan eiliiiee, buik upon the surge of this" rowing pre- 
cipice: winch has no other basis than one of those headlong whirling waves. 
Y7a> there ever such a representation of transitory prqspewty ; tending with 
inconceivable swiftness, imo rum ? Yet such, is every tern of human felicity, 
that is not grounded on Jesus, and a participation of his merits, "who is the 
Rock of Ages ; on Je*us. and his image formed in our hearts, which is the 
kopepf glory. 



216 CONTEMPLATIONS 

has no anchor of the soul, sure and steadfast! May thy loving- 
kindness, O God, be our present treasure ; and thy future 
glory, our reversionary inheritance ! Then shall our happi- 
ness not be like the full-orbed moon, which is tf alight that 
" decreaseth in its perfection ;" but like the sun, when lie go- 
eth forth in his strength, and knoweth no other change, but 
that of shining more and more unto the perfect day. 

Methinks, in this ever-varying sphere, I see a representa- 
tion, not only of our temporal advantages, but also of our spiri- 
tual accomplishments. Such, I am sure, is what the kind 
partiality of a friend would call my righteousness : And such, 
I am apt to suspect,* is the righteousness of every man living. 
Now we exercise it, in some tew instances, in some little de- 
grees. Anon sin revives, and leads our souls into a transient, 
though unwilling captivity. Now we are meek; but soon a 
ruffling accident intervenes, and turns our composure into a 
fretful disquietude. Now we are humble; soon we reflect 
upon some inconsiderable or imaginary superiority over others, 
and a sudden elatement swells our minds. Now, perhaps, we 
possess a clean heart, and are warm with holy love. But O ! 
how easily is the purity of our affections sullied ! How soon 
the fei'vour of our gratitude, cooled ! And is there not some- 
thing amiss even in our best moments ? Something to be 
ashamed of, in all we are ; something to be repented of, in all 
we do ? 

* I would not he understood, as measuring, in this respect, others by my- 
self; but as taking' my estimate from the unerring standard of scripture. Arid 
indeed, proceeding on this evidence, supported by this authority, I might 
have ventured farther than a bare suspicion . For " the re is not a just man up- 
on earth, that doeth good, and sinneth not," says the Spirit of inspiration by 
Solomon. (Eccl. vii. 20)— Nay such is the purity, and so extensive are the de- 
mands, of the divine law, that an Apostle makes a si ill more humbling ac- 
knowledgment ; " In many things we afford all, (Jam iii. 2.) — And the uner- 
ring Teacher who most thoroughly kne\\ our frame directs the most advanc- 
ed, most established, and most watchful Christians, to pray daily for the for- 
giveness of their daily trespasses —To which testimonies, I brg leave to add 
an elegant passage from the Cantk»les; because it not only expresses the 
sentiment of this paragraph. but illustrates it by the very same similitude. She 
(the chureh; is fair as the moon ; clear as the sun. Fair as the moon, the 
lesser and changeable light, in her sanetification ; clearasthesun. the greater 
and invariable luminary in her justification : The inherent holiness of be- 
lievers being imperfect, and subject to many inequalities; while their imputed 
righteousness »s every way.complete, and constantly like itself. Cant. yi. 10. 



ON THE NIGHT. 217 

With what gladness, therefore, and adoring thankfulness, 
should we "submit to the righteousness of our incarnate 
God ;" and receive, -as a divine gift, what cannot be acquired 
by human works !* — A writer of the iirst distinction, and ni- 
cest discernment, styles the obedience of our glorious Surety, 
an everlasting righteousness ;\ such as was subject to no inter- 
ruption, nor obscured by the least blemish; buf proceeded 
always in the same uniform tenor of the most spotless perfec- 
tion. — This righteousness, in another sense, answers the Pro- 
phet's exalted description ; as its beneficial and sovereign 
efficacy knows no end ; but lasts through all our life ; lasts in 
the trying hour of death ; lasts at the decisive day of judg- 
ment ; lasts through every generation ; and will last to all 
eternity. 

Sometimes I have seen that resplendent globe stripped of 
her radiance ; or, according to the emphatical language of 
scripture," «* turned into blood." The earth, interposing with_ 
its opaque body, intercepted the solar rays, and cast its own 
gloomy shadow on the moon. The malignantinfluen.ee gain- 
ed upon her sickening orb ; extinguished, more and more, 
the feeble remainders of light ; till at length, like one in a 
deep swoon, no comeliness was left, in her countenance ; she 
was totally overspread with darkness. — At this juncture, what 
a multitude of eyes were gazing upon the rueful spectacle! 
Even of those eyes, which disregard the Empress of the 
Night, or behold her with indifference, when, robed in glory, 
and riding in her triumphal chariot, she shed a softer day 
through the nations. But now, under these circumstances 
of disgrace, they watch her motions with the most prying at- 
tention. In every place* her misfortune is the object of gen- 
eral observation ; and the prevailing topic of discourse, in 
every company. 

Is it not thus with regard to persons of eminence, in their 
respective spheres ! Kings, at the head of their subjects : 
Nobles, surrounded with their dependents ; and (after names 
of so much grandeur, may I be allowed to add?) Ministers 
labouring among their people,* are each in a conspicuous sta- 
tion. Their conduct in its minutest step, especially in any 
miscarriage, will be narrowly surveyed, and critically scanned, 
Can there be a louder call, to ponder the paths of their feet, 

* Rom. v. 17.— x. 3. t I>an. ix. 24. 

* Ye are the light of the w&jM, A city that is set on aa bill, cannot be hwf. 
T 



218 CONTEMPLATIONS 

and to be particularly jealous over all their ways ? — Those who 
move in inferior life, may grossly offend; and little alarm be 
given, perhaps no notice taken. But it is not to be expected, 
that the least slip in their carriage, the least flaw in their cha- 
racter, will pass undiscovered. Malice, with her eagle-eyes, 
will be sure to discern them ; while Censure, with her shrill 
trumpet, will be as far from concealing them ; as Calumny, 
with her treacherous whispers, from extenuating them. A 
planet may sink below the horizon ; or a star, for several 
months, withdraw its shining ; and scarce one in ten thou- 
sand perceive the loss. Bat, if the moon suffers a transient 
eclipse, almost half the world are spectators of her dishonour. 

Very different was the case, when, at this late hour, I have 
taken a solitary walk on the Western cliff's. At the foot of 
the steep mountain, the sea, all clear and smooth, spread it- 
self into an immense plain, and held a watery mirror to the 
skies. Infinite heights above, the firmament stretched its 
azure expanse, bespangled with unnumbered stars, and adorn- 
ed with the moon, " walking in brightness."* She seemed to 
contemplate herself, with a peculiar pleasure ; while the trans- 
parent surface both received, and returned her silver image. 
Here, instead of being covered with sackcloth, she shone 
with double lustre ; or rather, with a lustre multiplied, in 
proportion to the number of beholders, and their various situ- 
ations. 

Such, methinks, is the effect of an exemplary behaviour, in 
persons of exalted rank. Their course, as it is nobly distin- 
guished, so it will be happily influential. Others will catch 
the diffusive ray ; and be ambitious to resemble a pattern, so 
attracting, so commanding. Their amiable qualities will not 
terminate in themselves ; but we shall see them reflected 
from their families, their acquaintance, their retainers. Just 
as we may now behold another moon,| trembling in the 
stream, glittering in the canal, and displaying its lovely im- 
press on every collection of waters. 

The moon, philosophy says, is a sort of sovereign over the 
great deep. Her orb, like a royal sceptre, sways the ocean, 
and actuates the fluid realms. It swells the tides, and per- 
petuates the reciprocal returns of ebb and flow. By which 
means, the liquid element purges off' its filth,«and is preserved 
from being putrefied itself, and from poisoning the world. — Is 
the moon thus operative on the vast abyss ? And shall not the 

* Job xxxL 26. 
t Spleadet treiaulo sub lumine ponttts. ■' Virj,'. 



ON THE NIGHT. 219 

faith of eternal and infinite delights to come, be equally effica- 
cious on this soul of mine ? — Far above her argent fields, are 
treasures of happiness, unseen by mortal eye, by mortal ear 
unheard, and unconceived by any human imagination. In 
thatdesirable world, the most distinguished and exalted hon- 
ours also are conferred ; in comparison with which, the thrones 
and diadems of earthly monarchs are empty pageants, and 
childish toys. — Yonder arch of sapphire, with all its spangles 
of gold, is but the floor of those divine abodes. What then are 
the apartments ; what is the palace ? How bright with glories ; 
how rich with bliss ? 

O ! ye mansions of blessedness ; ye beauties of my Father's 
kingdom ; which far outshine these lamps of the visible hea- 
ven ; transmit your sweet and winning invitations to my heart. 
Attract and refine all my affections. Withdraw them from 
stagnating on the sordid shores of flesh ; never suffer them to 
settle upon the impure lees of sense ; but impi-ess them with 
emotions of restless desire after sublime and celestial joys ; 
Joys, that will proceed, still proceed in a copious and everlast- 
ing flow, when seas shall cease to roll :— Joys, that will charm 
&very faculty with unimaginable pleasure ; when the moon, 
with her waxing splendors, shall cheer our sight no more. 

Enough for the present evening. My thoughts have been 
sufficiently exercised, and my steps begin to be attended 
with weariness. Let me obey the admonition of Nature ; and 
give respite to my meditations, slumber to my eyes. — Butstay. 
— Shall I retire to the bed of sleep, with as much inattention, 
as the brutes to their sordid lair? Are no acknowledgments 
cfhe to that Divine Being, who is the support of my life, and 
the length of my days ? Have I no farther need of his protect- 
ing care ? no more occasion for the blessings of his good- 
ness ? Lepidus, perhaps, may laugh at the bended knee ; 
and have a thousand darts of raillery ready to discharge on 
the practice of devotion. The wits, I know, are unmerciful- 
ly severe on what they call the drudgery of prayer, and the 
fantastical rant of praise. These they leave to the illiterate 
labourer, and the mean mechanic ; or treat them, with a con- 
temptuous sneer, as the parsons's ignoble trade. 

Is it then an instance of superstitious blindness, to distin- 
guish ; or of whimsical zeal, to celebrate, the most super- 
eminent excellency and merit ? Is it anangraceful business, or 
does it argue a grovelling disposition, to magnify goodness 
transcendently rich and diffusive ? — What can be so truly be- 
coming a dependent state, as to pay our adoring homage to 
the Author of all perfection, and profess our devoted allegi- 



223 CONTEMPLATIONS 

ance to the Supreme almighty Governor of the universe? — 
Can anything more significantly be speak an ingenuous temper, 
or administer a more real satisfaction to its finest feelings, 
than the exercises of penitential devotion : by which we give 
veiit to honest anguish, or melt into filialsorrow, for our in- 
sensibility to the best of friends, for our disobedience to the 
best of parents ? In a word, can there be a more sublime plea- 
sure, than to dwell, in fixed contemplation, on the beauties of 
the eternal mindj the amiable Original of all that is fair, 
grand, and harmonious ; the beneficent Giver of all that is 
convenient, comfortable, and useful ? — Can there be a more 
advantageous employ, than to present our requests to the Fa- 
ther of mercies ; opening our minds to the irradiations of his 
wisdom, and all the faculties of our souls to the communica- 
tions of his grace ? — It is strange, unaccountably strange, that 
the notion of dignity in sentiment, and the pursuit of refined 
enjoyment, should ever be disunited from devotion : That 
persons who make pretensions to an improved taste, and ex- 
alted genius, should neglect this most ennobling intercourse 
with the wisest and best of beings, the inexhaustible source 
of honour and joy. 

Shall I be deterred from approaching this source of the 
purest delight ? Deterred from pursuing this highest improve- 
ment of my nature ? Deterred from all by a formidable ban- 
ker, or confuted by one irrefragable smile? — No: Let the 
moon, in her resplendent sphere ; and yonder pole, with all its 
starry train ; witness, if I be silent even or morn ; if I refrain 
to kindle in my heart, and breathe from my lips, the reason- 
able incense of praise ; praise to that great and glorious God, 
who formed the earth, and built the skies ? who poured from 
his hand the watery world, and shed the all-surrounding air 
abroad. — <f Thou also made st the night, Maker omnipotent! 
i( and thou, the day ! which I, though less than the least of all 
" thy mercies, have passed in safety, tranquillity and com- 
" fort — When I was lost in the extravagance of dreams, or 
" lay immersed in the insensibility of sleep, thy hand recover- 
" ed me from the temporary lethargy. Thy hand set a new, 
" a delicately-fine edge on all my blunted senses ; and strung 
if my sinews with recruited vigour. When my thoughts were 
''benumbed and stupified, thy quickening influence roused 
; * them into activity ; when they were disconcerted and wild, 
'* thy regulating influence reduced them intoorder: Refitting 
" me at once, to relish the innocent entertainments of an ani- 
'' mal, and to enjoy the sublime gratifications of a rational 
" capacity. — When darkness covered the creation, at thy com- 
• •' matul, the sun arose ; painted the flowers, and distinguished 



ON THE NIGHT. 221 

ts every object : gave light to my feet ; and gave nature, with 
*' all her beautiful scenes, to my eye.— To thee, O thou God 
" of my strength ! I owe the continuance of my being, and 
6t the vivacity of my constitution. By thy sacred order* 
ss without any consciousness of mine, the wheels of life move, 
" and the crimson fountain plays. Over-ruled by thy esqui- 
" site skill, it transforms itself, by the nicest operations of an 
Si inexplicable kind of chemistry, into a variety of the finest 
s( secretions ; which glide into the muscles, and swell them 
" for action ; or pour themselves into the fluids, and repair 
fi their incessant decay ; which cause cheerfulness to sparkle 
,f in the eye, and health to bloom in the cheek. 

" Disastrous accidents, injurious to the peace of my mind, 
" or fatal to the welfare of my body, beset my paths. But 
" thy faithfulness and truth, like an impenetrable shield, 
" guarded me all around. Under this divine protection, I 
" walked secure, amidst legions of apparent perils ; and pas- 
(i sed unhurt, through a far greater multiplicity of unseen evils. 
"** Not one of my bones was broken ; not a single shaft graz- 
" ed upon my ease ; even when the eye that watched over me, 
" saw, in its wide survey, thousands falling beside me, in ir- 
te recoverable ruin ; and ten thousands deeply wounded, on my 
" right hand. — If sickness has, at any time, saddened my 
t( chamber, or pain harrowed my flesh, it was a wholesome 
t{ discipline, and a gracious severity. The chastisement pro- 
" ved a sovereign medicine, to cure me of an immoderate 
" fondness for this imperfect troublesome state ; and to quick- 
i( en my desires after the unimbittered enjoyments of my 
" eternal home.- — Has not thy munificence, unwearied and un- 
" bounded, spi-ead my table ; and furnished it with the finest 
* c wheat; replenished it with marrow and fatness? while 
" Temperance sweetened the bowl ; Appetite seasoned the 
" dish ; Contentment and Gratitude crowned the repast.— Has 
" not thy kindness, O God of the families of Israel ! preserv- 
6( ed my affectionate relations ; who study, by their tender 
u offices, to soften every care, and heighten every joy ? Has 
*' not thy kindness given me valuable friends ; whose presence 
(i is a cordial, to cheer me in a dejected houi* ; and whose 
* 4 conversation mingles improvement with delight! 

" When sin lay disguised amidst flowery scenes of plea- 
*' sure ; enlightened by thy wisdom, I discerned the latent 
" mischief; made resolute by thy grace, I shunned the !u- 
" scious bane. If, through the impulse of sensuality, or the 
" violence of passion, I have been hurried into the snare, and 
" stung by the serpent, thy faithful admonitions have recall- 
** ed the foolish wanderer j while the blood of thv Son has 
T2 



CONTEMPLATIONS, &c. 

" healed his deadly wounds. — Some, no doubt, have been cut 
'* oii' in the midst of their iniquities ; and transmitted from 
" the thrillings of polluted joy, to the agonies of eternal des- 
" pair. Whereas, I have been distinguished by long-suffer* 
'- mg mercy ; and, instead of lifting up my eyes in torments, 
" to behold a heaven irrecoverably lost; I may lift them up 
" under the pleasing views of being admitted, ere long, into 
" those abodes of endless felicity. — In the mean time, thou 
«' hast vouchsafed me the revelation of thy will ; the inftu- 
" ences of thy Spirit ; and abundance of the most effectual 
** aids, for advancing in knowledge, and growing in godli- 
" ness ; for becoming more conformable to thy image, and 
•* more meet for thy presence ; for tasting the pleasures of 
M religion, and securing the riches of eternity. 

" How various is thy beneficence, O thou Lover of Souls ? 
f( It has unsealed a thousand sources of good ; opened a 
"thousand avenues of delight; and heaped blessings upon 
" me, with a ceaseless liberality. If I should attempt to de- 
*' clare them, they would be more than the starry host, which 
*' glitter in this unclouded sky ; more than the dewy gerr.s, 
" which w r ill adorn the face of the morning. 

" And shall 1 forget the God of my salvation, the Author 
" of all my mercies ? Rather let my pulse forget to beat ! — 
" Shall I render him no expressions of thankfulness ? Then 
«"' might all Nature reproach my ingratitude. — Shall I rest 
" satisfied with the bare acknowledgement of my lips ? No : 
**. Let my life be vocal, and speak his praise, in that only gen- 
i( uine, that most emphatical language, — the language of de- 
** vout obedience. Let the bill be drawn upon my very heart ; 
" let all my affections acknowledge the draught ; and let the 
" whole tenor of my actions, in time and through eternity, 
" be continually paying the debt, — the ever-pleasing, ever- 
" growing debt of duty, veneration, and love. 

" And can I, O thou Guide of my goings, and Guardian 
*' of all my interests, — Can I distrust such signal, such ex- 
" perienced goodness? Thou hast been my helper, through 
u all the busy scenes of day : therefore under the shadow of 
u thy wings will I repose myself, during the darkness, the 
•' danger, and death-like inactivity of the night. Whatever 
<{ defilement 1 have contracted, wash it thoroughly away, in 
" redeeming blood ; and let neither the sinful stain, nor the 
' l sinful inclination, accompany me to my couch ! — Then shall 
* I lay me down in peace, and take my rest ; cheerfully refer- 
** ring it to thy all-wise determination, whether I shall open 
" my eyes in this world, or awake in the unknown regions of 
54 another " 



CONTEMPLATIONS 

ON 

THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 



There dwells a noble pathos in the skie3, 
Which warms our passions, proselytes our hearts. 
How eloquently shines the glowing- pole ! 
With what authority it gives its charge, 
Remonstrating great truths in style sublime ! 

Night-Thoughts, Ko. IX, 



THIS evening, I exchange the nice retreats of Art, for 
the noble theatre of Nature. Instead of measuring my steps 
under the covert of an arbour, let me range along the summit 
of this gently-rising hill. There is no need of the leafy shade, 
since the sun has quitted the horizon, and withdrawn his 
scorching beams. But see, how advantages and inconvenien- 
ces are usually linked, and chequer our affairs below ! If the 
.annoying heat ceases, the landscape, and its pleasing- scenes, 
are also removed. — The majestic castle, and the lowly cot- 
tage, are vanished together. I have lost the aspiring moun- 
tain, and its russet brow ; I look round but to no purpose, for 
the humble vale, and its flowery lap. The plains whitened 
with flocks, and the heath yellow with furze, disappear. The 
advancing night has wrapt in darkness the long-extended for- 
est, and drawn her mantle over the windings of the silver 
stream. I no longer behold that luxuriant fertility in the 
fields ; that wild magnificence of prospect, and endless variety 
of images ; which have so often touched me with delight, and 
struck me with awe, from this commanding eminence. 

The loss, however, is scarcely to be regretted ; since it is 
amply compensated by the opening beauties of the sky. Here 
I enjoy a free view of the whole hemisphere ; without any ob- 
stacle from below, to confine the exploring eye ; or any cloud 
from above, to overcast the spacious concave. It is true, the 
lively vermillion, which so lately streaked the chambers of 
the West, is all faded. But the planets, one after another, 
light up their lamps ; the stars advance in their glittering train y 



2*4 CONTEMPLATIONS 

a thousand and a thousand luminaries shine forth in succes- 
sive splendors ; and the whole firmament is kindling into the 
most beautiful glow. The blueness of the xther, heightened 
by the season of the year* and still more enlivened by the ab- 
sence of the moon, gives those gems of Heaven the strongest 
lustre. 

One pleasure more, the invading gloom has not been able 
to snatch from my sense. The night rather improves, than de- 
stroys the fragrance which exhales from the blooming beans. 
With these the sides of this sloping declivity are lined; and 
with these the balmy zephrys perfume their wings. Does 
Arabia, from all her spicy groves, breathe a more liberal, or 
a more charming gale of sweets I And, what is a more peculiar 
recommendation of the rural entertainments presented in our 
happy land, they are alloyed by no apprehensions of danger. 
No poisonous serpent lurks under the blossom ; nor any ra- 
venous beast lies ready to start from the thicket. — But I wan- 
der from a far more exalted subject. My thoughts, like my 
affections, are too easily diverted from the Heavens, and de- 
tained by inferior objects. Away, my attention from these 
little blandishments of the earth, since all the glories of the 
sky invite thy, regard. 

We have taken a turn among the tombs, and viewed the so- 
lemn memorials of the dead, in order to learn the vanity of 
mortal tilings, and to break their soft enchantment. — We have 
surveyed the ornaments of the garden ; not that the heart 
might be planted in the parterre, or take root among the 
flowery race ; but that these delicacies of a day might teach 
us to aspire after a better paradise, where beauty never fades, 
and delight is ever in the bloom. — A third time we lighted 
the candle of meditation, and sought for wisdom, not in the 
crouded city, or wrangling schools, but in the silent and lonely 
walks of ancient Night.* — Let us once more indulge the con- 
templative vein, and raise our speculations to those sublimer 
works of the great Creator, which the regions of the sky 
contain, and this dusky hour unveils.f 

If we have discerned the touches of his pencil, glowing in 
the colours of Spring; if we have seen a sample of his bene- 
ficence exhibited in the stoves of Nature, and a ray of his 

* Referring to the several subjects of the three preceding essays. 

f Night opes the noblest scenes, and sheds an awe, 
Which gives those venerable scenes full weight, 
And deep reception in th' entenderd heart. 

Xight-Thwgljtt. No. IXr 



ON THE STARRY- HE AVENS 225 

brightness beaming in the blaze of day, what an infinitely rich- 
er field for the display of his perfections are the Heavens ! 
The Heavens, in the most emphatical manner, declare the 
glory of God. The Heavens are nobly eloquent of the Deity, 
and the most magnificent heralds of their Maker's praise. 
They speak to the whole universe ; for there is neither speech 
so barbarous, but their language is understood ; nor nation so 
distant, but their voices are heard among them.* — Let me 
then, in this solemn season, formed for thought, and a calm 
intercourse with Heaven ; let me listen to their silent lectures. 
Perhaps, I may receive such impressive manifestations of " the 
Eternal Power and Godhead," as may shed religion on my 
soul, while I walk the solitary shades ; and may be a tutelary 
friend to my virtue, when the call of business, and the re- 
turn of light, expose me again to the inroads of temptation. 

The Isrealites, instigated by frenzy rather than devotion, 
worshipped the host of Heaven. And the pretenders to ju- 
dicial astrology, talk of I know not what mysterous efficacy, 
in the different aspect of the stars, or the various conjunction 
and opposition of the planets. — Let those who are unac- 
quainted with the sure word of revelation, give air to these sons 
of delusion, and dealers in deceit. For my part, it is a ques- 
tion of indifference to me, whether the constellations shone 
with smiles, or loured in frowns, on the hour of my nativity. Let 
Christ be my guard ; and, secure in such a protection, I would 
laugh at their impotent menaces. Let Christ be my guide ; 
and I shall scorn to ask, as well as despair of receiving, any 
predictory information from such senseless masses. — What ! 
shall " the living seek to the dead V'f Can these bodies ad- 
vertise me of future events, which are unconscious of their 
own existence ? Shall I have recourse to dull unintelligent 
matter, when I may apply to that all- wise Being ; who with 
one comprehensive glance, distinctly views whatever is lodg- 
ed in the bosom of immensity, or forming in the womb of fu- 
turity ? — -Never, never will I search for any intimations of my 
fate, but often trace my Creator's footsteps,^ in yonder starry 

* Psal. xix. 2. t Isa. viii. 19. 

X *'• It is most becoming" (says a great author) " such imperfect creatures 
" as we are, to contemplate the works of God : with this design, that we may 
" discern the manifestations of wisdom in them ; and thereby excite in our- 
" selves those devout afFeetions, and that superlative respect, which is the ve- 
" ry essence of praise, as it is a reasonable and moral service." Abemethy on 
K the Attributes.— And indeed, if we are sincerely disposed to emplov our* 



226 CONTEMPLATIONS 

plains. In the former case, they would be teachers of lies ; 
in the latter, they are oracles of truth. In this, therefore, 
this sense only I profess myself the pupil of the stars. 

The vulgar are apprehensive of nothing more, than a multi- 
tude of bright spangles dropt over ihe aethereal blue. They 
have no higher notion of these fine appearances, than that they 
are so many golden studs, with which the empyrean arch is 
decorated. — But studious minds, that carry a more accurate 
and strict inquiry among the celestial bodies, bring back ad- 
vices of a most astonishing import. Let me just recollect 
the most material of these stupendous discoveries, in order to 
furnish out proper subjects for contemplation. And let the 
unlearned remember, that the scene 1 am going to display, is 
the workmanship of that incomprehensible God, who is "per- 
fect in knowledge, and mighty in power;" whose name, 
whose nature, and all whose operations, are great and mar- 
vellous ; who summons into being, with equal ease, a single 
grain, or ten thousand worlds. — To this if we continually ad- 
vert, the assertions, though they will certainly excite our ad- 
miration, need not transcend our belief. 

The earth is, in fact, a round body ; however it may seem, 
in some parts, to be sunk into vales, and raised into hills :* in 
other parts, to be spread into a spacious plain, extending to 
the confines of the Heavens, or terminated by the waters of 
the ocean. — We may fancy, that it has deep foundations, and 

selves in this excellent, this delightful duty of praising the infinite Creator ; the 
means, and the motives, are both at hand. His works, in a wonderful and in- 
structive variety, present themselves, with pregnant manifestations of the 
most transcendent excellencies of then Maker. They pour their evidence 
from all quarters and into all the avenues of the mind". They invite us, espe- 
cially in the magnificent system of the universe, to contemplate— counsel 
consummately wise, and execution inimitably perfect,— power, to which no- 
thing is impossible ; and goodness, which exteudethto all, which mdureth for 
ever.— To give, not a full display, but only some slight strictures of these 
glorious truths, is the principal scope of the following remarks. 

* A learned writer, I think, Dr. Derham, has somewher3 an observation to 
this purpose :— That the loftiest summits of hills, and the most enormous 
ridges of mountains, are no real objection to the globular or round form of the 
earth. Because, however they may render it, to our limited sight, yasily une- 
ven and protuberant; vet they bear no more proportion to the entire surface 
of the terraqueous ball,' than a particle of dust casually dropt on the mathema- 
tician's globe, bears to its whole circumference. Consequei tly, the round figure 
is no more destroyed in the former case, than in the latter.— On the same 
principle. I have not thought it necessary, to take any notice of the com- 
paratively unaB difference between the polar and equatorial diameter at the 
earth. 



ON THE STARRY- HEAVENS, 227 

rests upon some prodigiously solid basis. But it is pendent in 
the wide transpicuous ?ether, without any visible cause to up- 
hold il from above, or support it from beneath. — It may seem 
to be sedentary in its attitude, and motionless in its situation. 
But it is continually sailing 1 ,* through the depths of the sky; 
and, in the space of twelve months, finishes the mighty voy- 
age ; which periodical rotation produces the seasons ; and 
completes the year. — As it proceeds in the annual circuit, it 
spins upon its own centre ; and turns its sides alternate!} 7 to the 
fountain of light. By which means, the day dawns in one 
hemisphere; while the night succeeds in the other. With- 
out this expedient, one part of its regions would, during half 
the great revolution, be scorched with excessive heat, or lan- 
guish under an uninterrupted glare : While the other, expos- 
ed to the contrary extremes, would be frozen to ice, and buri- 
ed under a long oppression of dismal and destructive dark- 
ness. 

I cannot forbear taking notice, that, in this compound mo- 
tion ot the earth, the one never interferes with the other, but 
both are perfectly compatible Is it not thus with the pre- 
cepts of religion, and the needful affairs of the present life ; 
not excepting even the innocent gratifications of our appe- 
tites ? — Some, I believe, are apt to imagine, that they must re- 
nounce society, if they devote themselves to Christ; and 
abandon all the satisfactions of this world, if they once be- 
come zealous candidates for the felicity of another. — But this 
is a very mistaken notion, or else a very injurious representa- 
tion, of the doctrine which is according to godliness. It was 
never intended to drive men into deserts ; but to lead them 
through the peaceful and pleasant paths of wisdom, into the 
blissful regions of life eternal. It was never intended to 
strike off the wheels of business, or cut in sunder the sinews 
©f industry ; but rather, to make men industrious from a prin- 
ciple of conscience, not from the instigations of a^rice ; that 
so they may promote their immortal happiness, even while 
they provide for their temporal maintenance. It has no de- 
sign to extirpate our passions, but only to restrain their irre- 
gularities ; neither would it extinguish the delights of sense; 
but prevent them from evaporating into vanity, and subsiding 
into gall. — A person may be cheerful among his friends, and 

* With -what amazing speed, this vessel (if I may carry on the allusion) fill- 
ed with a multitude of nations, and freighted with all their possessions, makes 
her way through the aethereal spaee^. See page I18. in Note.* 



228 CONTEMPLATIONS 

yet joyful in God. He may taste the sweets of his earthly 
estate; and, at the same time, cherish his hopes of a nobler 
inheritance in Heaven. The trader may prosecute the de- 
mands of commerce, without neglecting- to negotiate the af- 
fairs of his salvation. The warrior may wear his sword; may 
draw, in a just cause, that murderous weapon ; yet be a good 
soldier of Jesus Christ, and obtain the crown that fadeth not 
away. The parent may lay up a competent portion for his 
children, and not forfeit his title to the treasures, either of 
grace or of glory. — So far is Christianity from obstructing 
any valuable interest, or withholding any real pleasure ; that 
it improves the one, and advances the other. Just as the di- 
urnal and annual motions are so far from clashing, that they 
entirely accord ; and instead of being destructive of each 
other, by mutually blending their effects, they give proportion 
and harmony to time, fertility, and innumerable benefits to 
nature. 

To us who dwell on its surface, the earth is by far the 
most extensive orb, that our eyes can any where behold. It 
is also clothed with verdure ; distinguished by trees ; and 
adorned with a variety of beautiful decorations. Whereas, to 
a spectator placed on one of the planets, it wears an uniform 
aspect ; looks all luminous, and no larger than a spot. To be- 
ings who dwell at still greater distances, it entirely disap- 
pears. — That which we call, alternately, the morning and the 
evening star ; as in one part of her orbit, she rides foremost 
in the procession of night; in the other, ushers in, and an- 
ticipates the dawn ; is a planetary world. Which, with the 
four others, that so wonderfully vary their mystic dance, are 
in themselves dark bodies, and shine only by reflection ; have 
fields, and seas, and skies of their own ; are furnished with 
all accommodations for animal subsistence, and are supposed 
to be the abodes of intellectual life. All which, together with 
this our earthly habitation, are dependent on that grand dis- 
penser of divine munificence, the sun ; receive their light 
from the distribution of his rays, and derive their comforts 
from his benign agency. 

The sun, which seems to perform its daily stages through 
the sky, is, in this respect,* fixed and immoveable. It is the 
great axle of Heaven, about which the globe we inhabit, and 
other more spacious orbs, wheel their stated courses. — The 

* I say, in this respect; that I may not seem to forget. 6r ttitlude *be »*«► 
lutioa of the f un round its own axis. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 229 

6un, though seemingly smaller than the dial it illuminates, is 
abundantly larger* than this whole earth ; on which so many 
lofty mountains nse, and such vast oceans roll. A line, extend- 
ing from side to side_,through the centre of that resplendent orbj 
would measure more than eight hundred thousand miles: a 
gu-uie, formed to go found us circumference, would require a 
length ot* m.lhons : were its solid contends to he estimated, the 
account vwaid overwhelm our understanding, and be almost 
beyond the power of language to express.j— Are we startled 
at these reports of philosophy ? Are we ready to cry out, in a 
transport of surprise^ How mighty is the Being, who kindled 
such a prodigious lire ; and keeps alive, from age to age, such 
an enormous mass of flame ! — Let us attend our philosophic 
guides, and we shall be brought acquainted with speculations 
more enlarged and more amazing.. 

This sun, with ail attendant planets, is but a very little part 
of the grand machine of the universe. Every star, though, in 
appearance, no bigger than the diamond that glitters upon a 
lady's ring, is really a vast globe, like the sun in size, and in 
glory, no less spacious, no less luminous, than the radiant 
source of our day So that every star, is not barely a world, 
but the centre, of a magnificent system ; has a retinue of 
worlds, irradiated by its beams, and revolving round its at- 
tractive influence. All which are lost to our sight, in unmea- 
surabie wilds of aether, — That the stars appeal like so many- 
diminutive, and scarce distinguishable points, is owing to their 
immense and inconceivable distance. Immense and incon- 
ceivable indeed it is ; since a ball, shot from a loaded cannon, 
and flying, with unabated rapidity, must travel, at this impetu- 
ous rate, almost seven hundred thousand years, + before it 
could reach the nearest of those twinkling luminaries. 

Can any thing be more wonderful than these observations ? 
Yes : there are truths far more stupendous ; there are scenes 

* A hundred thousand times, according: to the lowest reckoning. Sir Isaac 
Newton computes the sun to be 900,000 times bigger than tiio earth. Reli- 
gious Philosoph, page 749. 

t Dr. Derham, after having calculated the dimensions of the planets, 
adds, " Amazing as these mass s aiv, they aw all &r outdone by that s*q- 
" pendous gK.be of light, the sun; which, as it is the fountain or : ligV ri nd 
u heat to all the planets about it, so dot'.iit fur surpass them a'i i h< :.nlk: 
li its apparent diameter being computed at 822,148 English mil. -s, ir> t.mbit 
" at 2.582.873 miles, and its solid contents at 290,'.>71,0C0,tC0 f.OQ.OCO." 

Asiro-theol. book i. chap. 2, 
J See Religious Philosopher, page 319. 



CONTEMPLATIONS 

far more extensive. As there is no end of the Almighty 
Maker's greatness ; so no imagination can set limits to his 
creating- hand. — Could you soar beyond the moon, and pass 
through all the planetary choir; could you wing your way to 
the highest apparent star, and take your stand on one of those 
loftiest pinnacles of Heaven ; you would, there, see other skies 
expanded ; another sun, distributing his inexhaustible beams 
by day; other stars, that gild the horrors of the alternate 
night ; and other,* perhaps nobler systems, established, in un- 
known profusion, through the boundless dimensions of space. 
— Nor does the dominion of the universal Sovereign terminate 
there. Even at the end of this vast tour, you would find your- 
self advanced no farther than the suburbs of creation ; arrived 
only at the frontiers of the great Jehovah's kingdom, j- 

And do they tell me, that the sun, the moon, and all the 
planets, are but a little part of his works ? " How great then 
are his signs ! and how mighty are his wonders !"4 — And if so, 
■what is the Creator himself! How far exalted above all praise ! 
who is so high, that he looks down on the highest of these 
dazzling spheres, and sees even the summit of creation in a 
vale : so great, that this prodigious extent of space is but a 
point in his presence; and all this confluence of vyorlds, as 
the lightest atom, that fluctuates in air, and sports in the me- 
ridian ray. || 

* See Astro. Theology, book ii. cap. 2 —Where the author, having as sign- 
ed various reasons to support this theory of our modern astronomers, i;dds, 
— " Besides the fore-mentioned strong probabilities, we have this farther re- 
** commendation of such an account of the universe, that it is far more mag- 
" nificent, and worthy of the infinite Creator, than any other of the nar- 
,; rower schemes.' 1 

•f Job, after a most beautiful dissertation on the mighty works of God, as 
they are distributed through universal nature, from the heights of heaven, 
to the very depths of hell, closes die magnificent account with this ac- 
knowledgment, " Lo ! these are parts of his ways." Or, as the original word 
more lit. r-dly signifies, and may. I think, be more elegantly rendered,These 
are only the skirts, the very outermost bordt rs of his works. No more than 
a small preface to the immense volume of the creation.— From the Hebrew 
—Extremitatei. I cannot forbear thinking on the extn me and very attenu« 
ated fibres of the root, when compared with the whole substance of the 
trunk; or. on the exquisitely small siz< of- the capillary vessels, when com- 
pared with the whole structure of the body, Job xxvi. 14. 

X Dan. if. 3. 

R This puts rat in mind of a very fine remark on a scriptural beauty, and 
a solid correction of tit common translation, made by that learned, saga- 
cious, and devout expositor, Vitringa.— Isa. xl. 15. we find it written of the 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 231 

Thou most sublime and incomprehensibly glorious God, 
how am I overwhelmed with awe ! how sunk into the lowest 
prostration of mind! when I consider thy " excellent great- 
ness," and my own utter insignificancy ! — And have I, excess 
sively mean as I am, have I entertained any conceited appre- 
hensions of myself ? Have I felt the least elatement of thought, 
in the presence of so majestic and adorable a Being? How 
should this wound me with sorrow, and cover me with confu- 
sion ! — O my God, was I possessed of all the high perfections, 
which accomplish and adorn the angels of light ;- amidst all 
these noble endowments, I would fail down in -the deepest 
abasement at thy feet. Lost in the infinitely superior blaze of 
thy uncreated glories, I would confess myself to be nothing; 
to be less then nothing, and vanity. — How much more ought I 
to maintain the most unfeigned humiliation, before thy divine 
majesty ; who am not only dust and ashes, but a compound of 
ignorance, imperfection, and depravity ! 

While, beholding this vast expanse,! learn my own extreme 
meanness, I would also discover the abject littleness of all ter- 
restrial things. — What is the earth, with all her ostentatious 
scenes, compared with this astonishingly grand furniture of 
the skies ? What, but a dim speck, hardly perceivable in the 
map of the universe r It is observed by a very judicious wri- 
ter,* That if the sun himself, which enlightens this part of the 
creation, was extinguished ; and all the host of planetary 
worlds, which move about him, were annihilated ; they would 
not be missed, by an eye that can take in the whole compass 

Supreme Bern?, that " he taketh up the isles as a very little thing."— 
Winch, our critic observes, is neither answerable to the import of the ori- 
gins,!, nor consonant to the structure of the discourse. The prophet had 
no intention to inform mankind, what the Almighty could do with regard 
to the islands, if he pleased to exert Uncontrollable power. His designwas 
was to shew, how insignificant, or rather what mere nothings they are, ia 
his esteem, and before his majesty. — The islands, says he, though so spa- 
cious^as to afford room for the erection of kingdoms,' and the abode of na= 
rions : though so strong, as to withstand, for many thousands of years, the 
raging and reiterated assaults of the whole watery world ; are yet, before 
the adored Jehovah, small as the minutest grain, winch the eye can scarce 
discern ; light as the feathered mote, which the least breath hurries away 
like a tempest.— In sulae sunt ut leve quid, quod avolat. The deep-rooted 
islands are as the volatile atom, which, by the gentlest undulations Of the 
ah> is wafted to and fro in perpetual agitation. 

* Speot. vol. viii. No. 565, 



232 CONTEMPLATIONS 

of nature, any more than a grain of sand upon the sea-shore. 
The bulk of which they consist, and the space which the> oc- 
cupy, is so exceedingly little in comparison of the whole, that 
, their loss would scarce leave a blank in the immensity of God's 
works. — If then, not our globe only, but this whole system, be 
so very diminutive ; what is a kingdom or a country ? What are 
a few lordships, or the"so much axlmired patrimonies of those 
who are styled wealthy * When I measure, them with my own 
little pittance, they swell into proud and bloated dimensions. 
But when I take the universe for my star*iardj how scanty is 
their size, how contemptible their figure ! They shrink into 
pompous nothings, f 

When the keen-eyed eagle sours above all the feathered 
race, and leaves their very sight below; when she wings her 
way, with direct ascent, up the steep of Heaven ; and, steadily 
gazing on the meridian sun,, accounts its beaming splendors 
all her own : does she then regard, with any solicitude, the 
mote that is flying in the air, or the dust which she shook 
from her feet ? ,And shall this eternal mind, which is capable 
of contemplating its Creator's glory; which is intended to en- 
joy the visions of his countenance ; shall this eternal mind, en- 
dowed with such great capacities, and made for such exalted 
ends, be so ignobly ambitious, as to sigh for the tinsels of 
state ; or so poorly covetous, as to grasp after ample territo- 
ries on a needle's point? — No: under the influence of such 
considerations, I feel my sentiments expand, and my wishes 
acquire a turn of sublimity. My throbbing desires after 
worldly grandeur die away ; and I find myself, if not possess- 
ed of power, yet superior to its charms. — Too long, must I 
own, have my affections been pinioned by vanity, and immured 
in this earthly clod. But these thoughts break the shackles, $ 
These objects open the door of liberty. My soul, fired by 
such noble prospects, weighs anchor from this little nook ; and 
coasts no longer about its contracted shores; dotes no longer 

* Juvat inter sidera vagantem divitum pavimenta ridere, et totam euro 

iuro suo terram. Sen. 

t Terrella? grandia tnania. IVattss Hor. Lyr. 

\ The sotil of man was made to walk the skies, 
Delightful outlet of her prison here ! 
There, disincuraher'd from her chains, the ties 
Of toys, terrestrial, she can rove at large ; 
There freely can respire, dilate, c.\n 1 d. 
In full proportion let loose all her pov *rs. 

Fight-Thoughts, No. IX 



ON THE STx\RRY.HEAVENS. 233 

on its painted shells. The immensity of things is her range, 
and an infinity of bliss is her aim. 

Behold tins immense expanse, and admire the condescen» 
sion of thy God. — In this manner, an inspired and princely 
astronomer improved his survey of the nocturnal Heavens. 
" Wiien I consider thy Heavens, even the works of thy fingers, 
the moon and the stars which thou hast ordained ;" I am smit- 
ten with wonder at thy glory, and cry out in a transport of gra- 
titude, " Lord, what is man, thatthou art mindful of him ? Or 
the son of man that thou visitest him?"* " How amazing, 
" how charming, is that Divine benignity, which is pleased to 
" bow down its sacred regards to so foolish and worthless a 
*' creature ! yea, disdains not, from the height of infinite ex- 
M altation, to extend its kind providential care to our most mi- 
" nute concerns ! — This is amazing. But that the everlasting 
" Sovereign should give his Son. to be made flesh, and become 
■'* our Saviour! shall I call it a~ miracle of condescending 
" goodness ? Rather, what are ail miracles, what are all 
" mysteries, to this ineffable gift !" 

Had the brightest archangel been commissioned to come 
down, with the olive-branch of peace in bis hand, signifying 
his eternal Maker's readiness to be reconciled ; on our bend- 
ed knees, with tears of joy, and a torrent of thankfulness, we 
ought to have received the transporting news. But when, in - 
stead of such an angelic envoy, he sends his only-begotten Son, 
his Son beyond all thought illustrious, to make us the gracious 
overture : — sends him, from the " habitation of his holiness 
and glory," to put on the infirmities of mortality, and dwell in 
a tabernacle of clay: — sends him, not barely to make us a 
transient visit, but to abide many years in our inferior and 
miserable world : — sends him, not to exercise dominion over 
monarchs, but to wear out his life in the ignoble form of a ser- 
vant ; and, at last, to make his exit under the infamous cha- 
racter of a malefactor! Was ever love like this ? Did ever 
grace stoop so low ? j — Should the sun be shorn of all his radi- 

* Psal. viff. 3, 4. 

t This reminds me of a very noble piece of sacra! oratory, where, in a fine 
series of the most beautiful gradations', the apostle displays the admirably con- 
descending kindness of our Saviour.— He thought it no robberv, it was lis 
indisputable right, to be equal with the infinite, aetfcexistent, immortal ^od. 
Yet, in mercy to sinners, he emptied 'ihnsdfof theincomn-mriieabie honours, 
2nd laid aside the robes of ineomprefeensible srlorv.— When he entered upon 
his mediatorial state, instead of actingiH the grand "capacity of universal Sove- 
reign, he took upon hiui the form of a servant: and not the form of ihose 
U2 



234 CONTEMPLATIONS 

\ 

ant honours, and degraded into a clod of the vallles ; should 
all the dignitaries of Heaven be deposed from their thrones, 
and degenerate into insects of a day ; great, great would he 
the ab-sement. But nothing to thine, most blessed Jesus ; 
nothing to thine, thou Prince of Peace ; when, for us men, 
and for our salvation, thou didst not abhor the coarse accom- 
modations of the manger ; thou didst not decline even the 
gloomy horrors of the grave. 

It is well the sacred oracles have given this doctrine the 
most explicit confirmation, and evidence quite incontestable. 
Otherwise, a favour so undeserved, so unexpected, and ricli 
beyond all imagination, might stagger our belief — Could he, 
who launches all these planetary globes, through the illimita- 
ble void ; and leads them on, from age to age, in their exten- 
sive career; could He resign his hands to be confined by the 
girding cord, and his back to be ploughed by the bloody 
scourge? — Could He, wrre crowns all the stars with inextin- 
guishable brightness, be himself defiled with spitting, and dis- 
figured with the thorny scar ? It is the greatest of wonders, 
and yet the surest of truths. 

O ! ye mighty orbs, that roll along the spaces of the sky ; I 
wondered, a little while ago, at your vast dimensions, and am- 
ple circuits. But now my amazement ceases ; or rather is en- 
tirely swallowed up, by a much more stupendous subject. 
Methinks, your enormous bulk is shrivelled to an atom ; your 
prodigious revolutions are contracted to a span j while I muse 
upon the far more elevated heights, and unfathomable depths ; 
the infinitely more extended lengths, andunlimitted breadths 
of this love of God in Christ Jesus. * 

those ministering spirits, whose duty is dignity itself; who are throned, 
though adoring. Ke took not on him the nature of angels, but stooped in- 
comparably lower ; assumed a body of animated dust, and was made in the 
likeness of men ; those iuferior and depraved creatures. — Astonishing con- 
descension J but iSot sufficient for tin -overflowing riches of the Redeemer's 
love. For, being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself farther 
still : occupied the lowest place, where all was low and ignoble. Ht not 
only submitted to the yoke of the law, but also bore the infirmities, and 
ministered to the necessities of mortals. He-even wasSied the feet of others, 
and had not where to Jay his own head. — Yea, he carried his meritorious humi- 
liation to the very deepest degrees of possible abasement. Ht became obe- 
dient unto death :— and not to a common or natural death, but a death more 
infamous than the gibbet ; more torturous than the rack ;— even the aceurs- 
ed death of the cross. Phil. ii. 6, 7. 8. 

* Eph- iii. IS, 19- 



OK THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 2SB 

Contemplating this stately expanse, I see a mirror, -which, 
represents, in the most awful colours, the heinousness of hu- 
man guilt. — Ten thousand volumes, wrote on purpose to dis- 
play the aggravations of my various acts of disobedience, could 
not'so arlectually convince me t)f their inconceivable enormity, 
as the consideration of that all-glorious person,* who, to make 
an atonement for them, spilt the last drop of his blood. — " I 
have sinned," may every chiid of Adam say ; " and what shall 
I do unto thee, O thou observer of men ? ,5 f Shall I give my 
first-born for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin 
of my soul? Vain commutation ! and such as would be re- 
jectedby the blessed God, with the utmost abhorrence,— Will 
all the potentates, that sway the sceptre in a thousand king- 
doms, devote their royal and honoured lives, to rescue an ob- 
noxious creature from the stroke of vengeance ? Alas ! it must 
cost more, incomparably more, to expiate the malignity of sin, 
and save a guilty wretch from hell. — Will all the principalities 
of heaven be content to assume my nature, and resign them- 
selves to death for my pardon ? t Even this would be too mean 
a satisfaction for inexorable justice, too scanty a reparation of 
God's injured honour. So flagrant is human .guilt, that nothing 
but a victim of infinite dignity could constitute an adequate 
propitiation. — He who said, " Let there be light, and there 
was light ;" Let there be a firmament, and immediately the 
blue curtains floated m the sky; He must take flesh ; He must 

* Quo quisque altius ascendit in agnitione Christi, eo profoundius pecea- 
ti atrocitatem cognoscet. 

+ Job vii. 20. Not preserver, as it stands in our version, but observer of 
men. Which phrase, as it denotes the txact and incessant inspection of the 
Divir.c cye;asitiuti;a;«tes the absolute- impossibility, that any transgression 
should escape the divine notiee, is evidently most proper, both to assign 
the reason, and heighten the emphasis of the context. 

t Milton sets this thought in a very poetical and striking light— All the 
sanctifies of Heaven stand round the throne of the -Supreme Majesty. God 
foresees and forttels the fall of man ; the ruin which will unavoidably ensue 
on Ms transgression ; and tin utter impossibility of his being able to extri- 
cate himself from the abyss of misery. 

He, with his whole posterity, must die ; 
Die he, or justice must ; unless for him 
Some other able, and as willing, pay 
The rigid satisfaction, death for death. .* 

After which affecting representation, intended to raise the most tender 



CONTEMPLATIONS 

feel the fierce torments of crucifixion ; and pour out his soul in 
agonies, if ever such transgressors are pardoned. 

How vast is that debt, which all the wealth of both the In- 
dies cannot discharge ! How vitiated that habit of body, which 
all the drug's produced by Nature herself, cannot rectify ! 
But how much more ruined was thy condition, O my soul ! 
How much mare heinous were thy crimes ! Since nothing" 
less than the sufferings and death of Messiah, the Son of 
God, and radiant image of his glory, could effect thy recove- 
ry or cancel thy iniquity. — Though, perhaps, thou art not 
sunk so very deep in pollution, as some of the most abandon- 
ed profligates? yet remember the inestimable ransom paid 
to redeem thee from everlasting destruction. Remember this ; 
and "never open thy mouth any more" * either to murmur at 
the Divine chastisements, or to glory in thy own attainments. 
Remember this ; and even "loath thyself, -j- for the multitude 
of thy provocations," and thy great baseness. 

Once more : Let me view this beautiful, this magnificent 
expanse ; and conceive some juster apprehensions of the un- 
known richness of my Saviour's atonement. — 1 am informed 
by a writer who cannot mistake, that the High Priest of my 
profession, who was also the sacrifice of my sins, is higher 
than the Heavens, t more exalted in dignity, more bright with 
glory, than all the heavenly mansions, and all their illustrious 

emotions of pity, the following inquiry is addressed to all the surrounding 
ungels : 

Say, heav'nly pow'rs, where shall we find such love ? 
Which of you will be mortal to redeem 
Man's mortal crime ? and die, the dead to save ? 
He ask'd ; but all the heavenly choir stood mute, 
And silence was in Heaven. 

There is, to me at least, an inimitable spirit and beauty in the last eir- 
cuin3tar.ee.— 1 hat such an innumerable multitude of generous and com- 
passionate b. jugs, should be struck dumb with surprise and terror, at the 
vi ry mention of the deadly r'or : '< iture, and ransom set ! No language is so 
eloquent as this silence. Words could not possibly ha\ e expressed, in so era- 
pltatical a manner, the dreadful nature of the task ; the absolute inability 
any or all er iatures to execute it ; the superemincnt and matchless love of 
the eternal Son, in undertaking the tremendous work ; not only Without 
reluctahee, but unsought and unimplored; with readiness, alacrity, and de- 
light. FaretfUse Lost i book III. line 209. edit. Bentl. 

* Ezek, xvi. 63. f E'/ek. xxx\i. 31. J Hcb, ni. £6. 



ON THE STARRRY-HEAVENS. 237 

inhabitants. If my heart was humbled at the consideration of 
its excessive guilt, how do all ray drooping- powers revive at 
this delightful thoughi? The poor criminal, that seemed to 
be totteroig- on the very brink of the infernal pit, is raised, by 
such a belief, even to the portals of paradise. My seif-abase- 
ment, 1 trust, will always continue ; but my fears, under the 
iniiuence of such a conviction, are quite gone.* I do not, I 
cannot, doubt the efficacy of this propitiation. While I see 
a glimpse of its matchless excellency, and verily believe my- 
self interested in its merits ; I know not what it is to feel any 
misgiving suspicions ; but am stedfast in faith, and joyful 
through hope. 

Be my iniquities like debts of millions of talents, here is 
more than full payment for -all that prodigious sum. Let the 
enemy of mankind, and accuser of the brethren, load me with 
invectives ; this one plea, A divine Redeemer died, most 
thoroughly quashes every indictment. For, though there be 
much turpitude, and manifold transgressions, — " there is no 
" condemnation to those that are in Christ Jesus."— Nay, 
were I chargeable with all the vilestdeeds, which have been 
committed in every age of the world, by every nation of men ; 
even in this most deplorable case, I need not sink into despair. 
Even such guilt, though grievous beyond all expression, is 
not to be compared with that abundance of grace and righte- 
ousness, which dwell in the incarnate Divinity — How great, 
how transcendently glorious, are the perfections of the ador- 
ed Jehovah! So great, so superlatively precious, is the ex- 
piation of the dying Jesus. It is impossible for the human 

* I am sorry to find, that some of my readers were a little disgusted at 
this expression, •"' My fears are quite gone ;" as thinking, it discovered a 
tincture of arrogance in the writer, and tended to discourage the weak 
Christian. But I hope a more mature consideration v ill acquit me from 
both these charges.— For what has the author said? Only that at some pecu- 
liarly happy moments, when the Holy Ghost bears witness of Christ in his 
heart, and he is favoured with a glimpse of the Redeemer's matchless ex- 
cellency ;—that, in these brighter intervals of life, his trembling fears, with 
regard to the decisive sentence of the great tribunal, are turned ir.to pleas- 
ing expectations. And what is there in such a declaration offensive to the 
strictest modesty, or dispiriting to the weakest believer ? Instead of creating 
discouragement, it points out the way to obtain a settled tranquillity. Its 
natural tendency is to engage the serious mind in a more constant and at- 
tentive meditation on the unknown merits of the divine Mediator. And 
were we more thoroughly acquainted, more deeply affected with his unut= 
terable dignity ; I am persuaded, our uneasy apprehensions would p ropor* 
ilor.ably vanish; our faith be established, our hopes brightened, aiid, ouy 
joys enlarged. 



238 CONTEMPLATIONS 

mind, to exalt this atonement* too highly ; it is impossible for 
the humftle penitent, to confide in it too steadily. The scrip- 
tures, the scriptures of eternal truth, have said it, (exult, my 
soul, in \he belief of it !) that the blood on which we rely, is 
God's own blood ;f and therefore all-sufficient to expiate, om- 
nipotent to save. 

David, that egregious sinner, but more exemplary saint, 
seems to have been well acquainted with this comfortable 
truth What else can be the import of that very remarkable, 
but most devout declaration ? Thou shah purge me 4 with hys- 
sop, and I shall be clean : Thou shalt wash me, and I shall be 
whiter than snow. — " I have been guilty, 1 must confess, of 
'} the most complicated and shocking crimes ; Crimes, inflam- 
" ed by every aggravating circumstance, with regard to my- 
" self, my neighbour, and my God. Myself, who have been 
t( blessed above men, and the distinguished favourite of Pro- 
" vidence ; my neighbour, who, in the most dear and tender 
" interests, has been irreparably injured ; my God, who might 
"justly expect the most grateful returns of duty, instead of 
u such enormous violations of his law. Yet, all horrid and ex- 
" ecrable as my oft'ence is, it is nothing to the superabundant 
" merit of that great Redeemer, who was promised from the 
" foundations of the world ; in whom all my fathers trusted; 
" who is the hope of all the ends of the earth. Though my 
" conscience be more loathsome, with adulterous impurity, 
" than the dunghill ; though treachery and murder have ren- 
'* dered it even black as the gloom of hell; yet, washed in the 
* fountain opened for sin and for uncleanncss,"§ I shall be, — 

* Tliis doctrine, though rich with consolation to the ruined sinner; yet 
is it not likely to open a door for licentiousness, and embolden transgres- 
sors to prosecute their vices ?— No : It is the most powerful motive to that 
genuine repentance, which flows from an unfeigned love of God, and ope- 
rates in a hearty d< testation of all sin. One who knew the immeasurable 
goodness of the Lord, and was no stranger to the sinful perverseness of our 
nature, says, There is mercy with thee: therefore slialt thou he feared, Psal. 
exxx. 4.— Words full to my purpose ; which at once add the highest authori- 
ty to this sentiment, and direct our minds to its proper influence, and due 
improvement. " 

t Acts xx. 28. 

i Psal. li. 7. Thou shalt purge. I prefer this translation before the new 
one. Because this speaks the language of a more stedfast belief and gives 
the highest honour to the Divine goodness. Were the words intended f 
bear no more than the common petitionary sense, and not to be expressive 
of a noble plerophory of faith ; they would rather have been bnperao i 
and not futures. 

$ Zech. xiii. U 



ON THE STARRY- HEAVENS. 239 

f* I say,- not pure only, this were a disparage rnent to the ef- 
" ficacy of my Saviour's death ; but I suali^b" fair ae :. the lily, 
" aid white as the snow Nay, let me not derogate from the 
*' glorious object of my confidence ; cleansed by this sovereign, 
" sanctifying stream, I shall be fairer than the full-blown lily, 
«' whiter than the new-fallen snows" • 

Power, saiththe scripture, belongeth. unto God.* — And in 
what majestic lines is this attribute of Jenovah written, 
throughout the whole volume of the creation ! especially, 
through those magnificent pages, unfolded in yonder starry 
regions ; which are therefore styled, by the sweet and se- 
raphic singer of Israel, " the firmament of his power ;"| be- 
cause the grand exploits of Omnipotence are there displayed 
with the utmost pomp, and recorded in the most legible cha- - 
racters. 

Who, that looks upward to the midnight-sky ; and, with an 
eye of reason, beholds its rolling wonders ; who can forbear 
inquiring, Of what were those mighty orbs formed ? — Amaz- 
ing to relate ! They were produced without materials. They 
sprang from emptiness itself. The stately fabric of univer- 
sal nature emerged out of nothing.— What instruments 
were used by the Supreme Architect, to fashion the parts.with, 
such exquisite niceness, and give so beautiful a polish to the 
whole ? How was all connected into one finely -proportioned, 
and nobly-finished structure ? — A bare Fiat accomplished all. 
—Let them be, said God. He added no more ; and immedi- 
ately the marvellous edifice arose ; adorned with every beauty ; 
displaying innumerable perfections; and declaring amidst 
enraptured seraphs, its great Creator's praise. "By the word 
"of the Lord, were the heavens made, and all the host of 
them by the breath of his mouth. "±— What forceful machinery 
fixed some of those ponderous globes on an immoveable basis ? 
What irresistible impulse bowled others through the circuit 

* Fsal. lxiL 11. f Psal. el. 1. 

| If this thought is admitted a second time, ar.d suffered to ennoble the 
next paragraph ; it is partly, because of its unequalled sublimity ; partly, 
because it awakens ihe most grand id-a of creating power ; and partly, be- 
cause the practice of the Psalmist, in authority too great to be controvert- 
ed, is my precedent.— The beautiful stanza quited fi;6m Psal. voaii. o, is 
a proof, how thoroughly the royal poet entered into the majesty ofthe Mo- 
saic narration. The reptition of the switin. At, ver. 9. intimates, how pe- 
culiarly he was charmed with that noble maimer of describing the divine 
operations ; while the turn of his own composition shews, hew pertecfly he 
possessed the same elevated way of thinking : and this, long before Lou- 



240 CONTEMPLATIONS 

of the Heavens? What coercive energy confined their im- 
petuous courses within limits, astonishingly lan,e, yet most 
minutely true? — Nothing but his sovereign will. "For all i 
things were at first, constiiiutd, and all to this day abide, 
" according to his ordinance." 

Without any toilsome assiduity or laborious process, to 
raise — to touch — to speak such a multitude of immense bodies 
intfl being; — to launch them through the spaces of the sky, 
as an arrow from the hand of* a giant ;■ — to impress on such 
unwieldy masses, a mot. on far outstripping the swiftness of 
the winged creation ;* — and to continue them in the: same ra- 
pid wiorl, for thousands arid thousands of years; — what an 
amazing instance of infinite might is this ! — Can any tiling be 
in possible to the Lord, the Lord Gc d ; the Creator and Con- 
trouler of all the ends of the earth, all the regions of the uni- 
verse ? Rather, is not ail that we count difficult, perfect ease 
to that glorious Being, who only spake, and the world was 
made ?y who only g^ve command, and, the stupendous axle 
was lodged fast, the lofty wheels moved complete ? — What a 
sure defence, O my soul, is this everlasting strength of thy 
Gcd ! Be this thy continual refuge, in the article of danger ; 
thy never-failing resource, in every time of need. 

What cannot this uncontrollable power of the great Jeho- 
vah efiect for his people ? Be their miseries ever so galling, 
cannot this God relieve them? Be their wants ever so nume- 
rous, cannot ih's God supply them ? Be their corruptions with- 
in ever so inveterate, or their temptations without eve 1 so im- 
portunate, pannot ti.is mighty, might) God, subdue the for- 
mer, and fortify them against the latter ! — Should trials, with 

^inus wrote tbe celebrated treatise, which has taught che Heathen, as well 
as flic Christian world, to admire the dignity, of the Jewish legislator*;, 
stjle. V'ul Lmigau tie sublim. sett. IX. 

* To phe one instance of this remark.— The earth, in the diurnal revo- 
tutioii, which it performs oh it own ah. whirl about at the late of above a 
thousand rah s an hour. And -as the gr< at or* u which it ri'>ciibesaniiUL.'ly 
aroiiml the sun. is rVthontd ft fiv« hundred and forty millions of miles, it 
must travel near a u iliion and a half < .<-!, iiaj .— W bat & force muse be re- 
quisite, t<. protrude so v?..,i a -lob. ; ami « heel iron, loaded as it is with huge 
niotinu i • •. and pond< •■'■• greeof rapidity: it 

surpasses human conception!— Mow ikmui-jL how pertinent, hot* almost 
necessary, aft.- r such an observation, is the acknowl. holy 

Job, " 1 know that thou canst do ■ very ti.ira ; ai.d that no thought," no 
cau be withholden fromthee," can lie beyond thy 
$»ow er to execute. Chap. xiii. 2. 

t Tsal. xixiii. 9. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. Ul 

an incessant vehemence, sift thee as wheat; should tribula- 
tion, with a weight~of woes, almost grind thee to powder ; 
should pleasure, with her bewhitching smiles, solicit thee to 
delicious ruin ; yet " hold thee fast by God," and lay thy help 
upon him that is omnipotent.* Thou canst not be involved in 
such calamitous circumstances, or exposed to such imminent 
peril ; but thy God, whom thou servest, is able to deliver thee 
from the one, and to support thee under the other. To sup- " 
port ! To deliver ! Let me not dishonour the unlimltted great- 
ness of his power. He is able toexaitthee, from the deepest 
distress, to the most triumphant jov ; and to make even a com- 
plication of evils work together for thy everlasting good. He 
is able, not only to accomplish what I have been speaking', but 

* It is a most charming description, as -well as a most comfortable pro- 
mise which we find in Isa.xl.29, 30. 31. — "He eriveth power to tIj- feeble; and 
to them that have no might at all. he rot only imparteth, but increasetii 
strength ;" rnakingit to abound, where it did not so much as exist. — Without 
this aid of Jehovah even the youths amidst the very prime oftbeir vigouvand 
activity shall become languid in their work, and w<.ary in their course. And 
the young men ; to whose resolution and abilities nothing seemed impracti- 
cable, shall not only not succeed, but utterly fall and miscarry iii their vari- 
ious enterprises.— Whereas, they tl at wait upon the Ford, and confide in his 
grace, shall press on. with a generous ardour, from one degree of religious 
improvement to another. Instead ofexbahsting, they shall renew their 
strength; dafScurties shall animate, and toil invigorate them. They shall 
mount up as with soaring wing;, above all opposition : they shall be car- 
ried through every discouaagement. as eagles cleave the yielding air. They 
shall run, with speed and alacrity, the way of God's commandments, and 
not be weary: they shall hold on (progrtdientur, carpent iter) with con- 
stancy and perseverance, in those peaceful paths, and not Sunt ; but arrive 
at the end of their progress, and receive the, prize of their high calling. 

To this most cheering doctrine, permit me to add its no less beautiful 
and delightful contrast. EHphaz.. speaking of the enemies of the righte- 
ous, says. Nihil exeisum factio nobis adversaria. — We should reckon our 
language acquitted itself tolerably well if when depreciating the abilities of 
an adversary, it should represent them weak as the scorched thread, feeble 
as the dissolving smoke. But these are cold forms oj speech, compared w irh 
the eloquence of the East. According to the genius of our bible, all the 
power that opposes the godly, is a mere nothing ; or, to speak with a more 
empbatieal air cf contempt, a destroyed, an extirpated nothing. Admire this 
expression, ye that are charmed with daring images, and (what Tully calls 
verbum ardens) a spirited and glowing diction. — Remember this declaration, 
ye that fight the good fight of faith. The united force of all your enemies, 
be it ever so formidable to the eye of flesh, is, before your Almighty guar- 
dian, nihil nihilissimum, not only nothing, but less than nothing, and va* 
nitv. Job xxii. 30. 



242 CONTEMPLATIONS 

'* to do exceeding- abundantly above all that we can ask or 
think*" • 

O ! the wretched condition of the wicked, who have this 
Lord of all power for their enemy ! O ! the desperate madness 
of the ungodly, who provoke the Almighty to jealousy ! — Be- 
sotted creatures ! are you able to contend with your Maker, 
and enter the lists against incensed Omnipotence ? Can you 
hear the fierceness of his wrath, or sustain the vengeance of 
his lifted arm! At his presence, though awfully serene, the 
hills melt like wax, and the " mountains skip like frighted 
lambs." At the least intimation of his displeasure, the foun- 
dati ma of nature rock, and the " pillars of Heaven tremble. " 
How then can a withered leaf endure, when "bis lips are full 
of indignation, and his tongue as a devouring fire?" — Or can 
any thing screen a guilty worm, when the great and terrible 
God shall whet bis glittering sword, and his hand take hold on 
inexorable judgment ? When that hand, which shoots the 
planets, masses of excessive hulk,-j- with such surprising ra- 
pidity, through the ^ky : that hand, which darts the comets to 
such immeasurable distances, beyond the orbit of our remotest 
-, beyond the pursuit of the strongest eye : when that 
is (Stretched out to punish, cm the munition of rocks, the 
intervention of seas, or even interposing worlds, divert the 
Mow ? — Consider this, Ambition ; and bow thy haughty crest, 
Icr this, Disobedience ; and bend thy iron smew. O ! 

* I should, in this plac?, avoid swelling (he nc't is it not 

to take notice of the inimitable passage quoted abovi . Kph. 

iii. 20.— Which, if I do not greatly mistake, is the most compi 
Uttiop of Disine power, that it is possible for words to frame,— To do all 
that our tongue c;.n ?sk, is a miracle </. might. But we oiten, think more 
than we can express, and an- actuated with " groanings unutterable." Yet, 
to answer these vast desires, is not beyond the accomplishment of our hea- 
venly Tathei-.— Nay, to make his gifts and his bles mils commensurate to 
the largest stretch of human expectations, is a small thing v, ith the Gcd of 
glory. He is able to do above all that the most enlarged apprehension can 
imagine; J»a. to do abundantly mo- ... mdantly more, than 

tlie mii:d itself, in the utmost exertion of all its faculties, i.- capable of wish- 
ing, or knows how to conceive. 

t One of the planets (Saturn) is supposed to be more than ninety times 
as big a? the globe on which we live. According to the same calculation, 
the largest of the planets (Jupiter) is above 200 times vaster, than this 
vast collection of spacious forests, towering mountains, extensive conti- 
nents and boundless oceans. — Such enormous magnitude! winged with 
such prodigious speed!— It raises astonishment beyond expression.— With 
God f, terrible majesty ! Job xxxvii. 22.— Who shall not fear thee, O L©rd ! 
and glorify thy name ? Rev. xv. 4. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 243 

consider this, all ye that forget, or affront, the tremendous Je- 
hovah. He can, by a single act of his will, lay the universe 
in utter ruin : and can he want power to bring- you, in a mo- 
ment, in the twinkle of an eye, to the dust of death, or to the 
flames of hell ? He has — I say not, ten thousand lightnings, to 
scorch you to ashes ; ten thousand thunders, to crush you in- 
to atoms ; but, what is unspeakably more dreadful,— -he lias 
an army of terrors, even in the look of his angry countenance. 
His very frown is worse than destruction. 

I cannot dismiss this subject, without admiring the patience 
of the blessed God ; who, though so strong and powerful, yet 
" is provoked every day ." — Surely, as his majesty, so is his 
mercy; his pity altogether commensurate to his power. If I 
vilify but the name of an earthly monarch, 1 lose my liberty, 
and am confined to the dungeon If I appear in arms, and 
draw the sword, against my national sovereign ; my life is for- 
feited, and my very blood will scarce atone for the crime. But 
thee I have dishonoured, O ! thou King immortal and invisi- 
ble ! Against thee my breast has fomented secret disaffection ; 
my behaviour has risen up in open rebellion ; andyet I am spar- 
ed, yet I am preserved. Instead of being banished from thy pre- 
sence, I sit at thy table, and am fed from thy hand. Instead of 
pursuing me with, thunderbolts of vengeance, thy favours sur- 
round me on every side. That arm, that injured arm, which 
might justly fall, with irretrievable ruin, on a traitor's head, is 
most graciously stretched out, to caress him with the tender- 
est endearments, to cherish him with every instance of paren- 
tal kindness. — O ! thou mightiest, thou best of beings, how am 
I pained at my very soul, for such shameful and odious disin- 
genuity ! Let me always abominate myself, as the basest of 
creatures : but adore that unwearied long-suffering- of thine, 
which refuses to be irritated ; love that unremitted goodness, 
which no acts of ingratitude could stop, or so much as check, 
in its gracious current. O ! let this stubborn heart, which 
duty could not bind, which threatenings could not awe, be the 
captive, the willing captive, of such triumphant beneficence. 

I have often been struck with wonder at that Almighty 
skill, which weighed the mountains; in scales, and the hills 
in a balance ; which proportioned the waters in the hollow 
of its hand, and adjusted the dust of the earth * by a mea- 

* Isa. xi. 12. The dust of the earth, in this sublime scripture, signifies the 
Avj lam!, or solid part of our globe; which is placed in contradistinction to 



:U CONTEMPLATIONS 

sure. But how much more marvellous is that magnificent 
oeconomy, which poised the stars with inexpressible nicety, 
and m^ted out the heavens with a span ? where all is prodigi- 
ously vast ; immensely various, and yet more than mathe- 
matically exact. Surely the wisdom of God manifests itself 
in the skies, and shines in those lucid orbs ; shines on the con- 
templative mind, with a lustre incomparably brighter than that 
which their united splendors transmit to the eye. 
. Behold yonder countless multitude of globes ; consider their 
amazing magnitude ; regard them as the sovereigns of so many 
systems, each accompanied with his planetary equipage. Upon 
this supposition, what a multiplicity of mighty spheres must 
be perpetually running their rounds, in the upper regions! 
ne mistake their way, or wander from the goal, though 
the} 7 pass through trackless and unbounded fields. None fly 
off from their orbits, into extravagant excursions ; none press 
in upon their centre, with too near an approach. None inter- 
fere with each other in their perennial passage, or intercept 
the kindly communications of another's influence. * But all 
their rotations proceed in eternal harmony ; keeping such time, 
and observing such laws, as are most exquisitely adapted to 
the perfection of the whole. 

While I contemplate this "excellent wisdom, which made 
" the Heavens,'' and attunes all their motions, how am I 
abashed at that mixture of arrogance and folly, which has, at 
any time, inclined me to murmur at thy dispensations, O 

the whole collection of fluid matter, mentioned in the preceding clause.— 
Perhaps, this remarkable expression may Ik- intended to intimate, not only 
the extreme niceness, which stated the dimensions of the world in general, 
or in the gross ; but also that particular exactness with which the very 
sraalh st materials that constitute its frame (not excepting each individual 
atom) were calculated and disposed.— q. d. ltisa small thing to say, no such 
enormous redundances, as unnecessary ridges of mountains, were suffered 
to subsist. There was not so much as the least grain of sand superfluous, or 
a single particle of dust deficient.— As the grand aim of the description, 
is, to celebrate the consummate wisdom exemplified in the creation ; and to 
display that perfect proportion, w ith which every part tallies, coincides, and 
harmonizes, with the whole ; I have taken leave to alter the word of our 
English translation, comprehend, and introduce in its stead, a term equally 
faithful to the Hebrew, and more significative of the prophet's precise idea. 

* The interception of light, by means of an eclipse, happens very rarely. 
And thtn it is of so short a continuance, as not to be at all inconvenient. 
Nay, it is attended with such circumstances, as render it rather useful, than 
prejudicial. 



G.N THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 24o 

Lord ! What is this, but a sort of implicit t*easoi^ai Just thy 
supremacy, and a tacit denial of thy infinite underst; . ng ?C 
Kast thou so reguhoiy placed sucJi a wo^de^rful divers ty of 
systems, through the spaces of the universe 5 D.dj': thou, 
without any probationary essays, without any improving re- 
touches, speak them into the most consummate perfection ? — ■ 
Dost thou continually superintend all their circirnstarires, 
with a sagacity that never 'mistakes the minutest tittle of pro- 
priety ? And shall I be so unaccountably stupid, as to ques- 
tion the justness of thy discernment, in i( choosing: my inheri- 
'•' tance, and fixing- the bounds of my habitation !" — Not a sin- 
gle erratum, in modelling the structure, determining. the dis- 
tance,* and conducting the career of unnumbered worlds ' 
and shall my peevish humour presume to censure thy inter- 
position, "with regard to the affairs of one inconsiderable crea- 
ture ,■ whose stature, in such a comparative view, is less than 
a span, and his present duration little more than a moment? 

O! thou God. " in whose hand my breath is, and whose 
<f are all my ways," let such sentiments as now possess my 
thoughts, be always lively on my heart ! These shall compose 
my mind into a cheerful acquiescence, and a thankful submis- 
sion ; even v':en afflictions gall the sense, or disappointments 
break my sehfetiles. I'nen sliall I, like the grateful patri- 
arch,-}- in all the changes of my condition, and even in the 
depths of distress, erect an altar of adoring resignation, and 
inscribe it with the Apostle's motto, To God only wise. Then, 
shouldst thou give me leave to be the carver of my own for- 
tunes, I would humbly desire to relinquish the grant, and re- 
committhe disposal of myself to thy unerring beneficence. Ful- 
ly persuaded that thy counsels, though contrary to my fro ward 
inclinations, or even afflictive to my flesh, are incomparably 
more eligible, than the blind impulse of my own will, how- 
ever soothing to animal natm^e. 

On a careless inspection, you perceive no accuracy, or uni- 

* The sun in particular (and let this serve as a specimen of that most cu- 
rious exactness, with which the other celestial bodies are constituted, and 
all their eircumstai-.^-s "regulated), the sun is formed of such a determinate 
magnitude, and placed at such a convenient disjtance,-^ as not to annoy, 
" but only refresh us, and nourish the ground with its kindly warmth. li it 
" was larger, it would set the earth on fire; if smaller, it would leave it fror 
* zen. If it was hearer us, we should be scorched to death ; if farther from 
" us, we should not be able to live for want of heat." Stack house's History 
•fthe Bibk. 

t See Gen. xii. 7, '?, 
X2 



246 CONTEMPLATIONS 

formity, in the position of the heavenly bodies. They appear 
like an illustrious chaos ; a promiscuous heap of shining globes; 
neither ranked in order, nor moving' byline.- — But what seems 
confusion is all regularity. What carries a show of negligenee, 
is really the result of the most masterly contrivance. You 
think, perhaps, they rove in their serial flight; but they rove 
by the nicest rule, and without the least error. Their circuits, 
though seemingly devious ; their mazes, thought intricate 
to our apprehensions,* are marked out, not indeed with golden 
compasses, but by the infinitely more exact determinations 
of the all-wise Spirit. 

So, what wears the appearance of calamity, in the allotments 
appointed for the godly, has really the nature of a blessing. 
It issues from fatherly love, and will terminate in the richest 
good. If Joseph is snatched from the embraces of an indul- 
gent parent, and abandoned to slavery in foreign land; it is 
in order to save the holy family from perishing by famine; 
and to preserve "the seed, in whom all the nations of the 
earth should be blessed." If he falls into the deepest dis- 
grace, it is on purpose that he may rise to the highest honours. 
Even the confinement of the prison, by the unsearchable work- 
ings of Providence, opens his way to the right hand of the 
throne itself. — Let the most afflicted servant of Jesus waitthe 
final upshot of things. He will then discover the apparent 
expediency of all those tribulations, which now, perhaps, lie 
can hardly admit without reluctance, or suffer without some 
struggles of dissatisfaction. Then the gushing tear, and the 
heaving sigh, will be turned into tides of gratitude, and hymns 
of holy wonder. 

In the mean time, let no audacious railer presumptuously" 
impeach the Divine procedure ; but, adoring where we cannot 
comprehend, let us expect the evolution of the mysterious 
plan. Then shall every eye perceive, that the seeming laby- 
rinths of Providence, were the most direct, and compendious 
way, to effect his general purposes of grace, and to bring 
about each one's particular happiness.*— Then, also, shall it be 

* —Mazes intricate, 

Eccentric, intevvolv'd; yet regular 

Then most, when most irregular they seem— Milt. 

f —The moral world,; 
Which tho' to us it seems embroil'd moves on 
In higher order ; fitted, and impelPd 
By Wisdom's finest hand, and issuing all 
In gen'ral good. Thorns. Whit. I. 586. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS, U7 

clearly shewn, in the presence of applauding worlds, why 
Virtue pined in want, while Vice rioted in afRuence ; why 
amiable Innocence so often -dragged the dungeon-chain, while 
horrid Guiit trailed the robe of state.— That day of universal 
audit, that day of everlasting retribution, will not only vindi- 
cate, but magnify, the whole management of Heaven. The 
august sessions shall close with this unanimous, this glorious 
acknowledgment " Though clouds and darkness, impenetra- 
ble by any human scrutiny, were, sometimes round about 
1 ' the Supreme Conductor of things ! yet righteousness and 
"judgment were the constant habitation of his seat?* the in- 
" variable standard of all his administrations. 5 '— Thus (if I 
may illustrate the grandest truths by inferior occurrences) 
while we view the arras? on the side of least distinction, it is 
void of any elegant fancy; without any nice strokes of Art; 
nothing but a confused jumble of incoherent threads. No soon- 
er is the piece beheld in its proper aspect, but the suspected 
rudeness vanishes, and the most curious arrangement takes 
place. We are charmed, with designs of the finest taste, and 
figures of the most graceful form. All is shaped with symme- 
try ; all is clad in beauty. 

The goodness of God is most eminently displayed in the 
skies. — Could we take an understanding survey of whatever 
is formed by the Divine Architect, throughout the whole ex^ 
tent of material things ; our minds would be transported with 
their excellencies, and our tongues echo back that great en- 
comium, They are " good, very good." -j- Most beautiful $ in 
themselves; contrived by unerring wisdom, and executed with 
inimitable skill. Most useful $ in their functions ; exactly fit- 
ting the places they fill, and completely answering the pur- 
poses for which they were intended. — All the parts of the in- 
animate creation proclaim, both by their intrinsic and relative 
excellencies, the all-diffusive beneficence of their Maker. 

How much more wonderful are the displays of Divine indul- 
gence, in the worlds of life 1 Because dead matter is incapa- 
ble of delight, therefore the gracious Creator has raised^ihnu- 
merable ranks of perceptive existence ; such as are qualified 

* Psal. xcvii. 2. t Gen. i. 31. 

\ It was nobly said, by a Pagan philosopher, on this occasion ; That God, 
wfcea he undertook the work of creation, transformed himself iato lore,— 



243 COxNTEMPLATIONS 

t taste h ; s bounty, and enjoy each a happiness sunt:'.: 
peculiar state. With this view, he furnished the regions of 
inferior nature, with an order and a series of sensitive beings. 
The waters teem, with shoals of finny inhabitants. The dry- 
land swarms, with animals of every order. The dwellings of 
the firmament, are occupied by multitudes of winged people. 
Not so much as a green leaf, philosophers say, but lodges and 
accommodates its puny animalcule tenants.* — And where- 
fore this diversity, jthis profusion of living- creatures, flying the 
air, treading the ground, and gliding- though the paths oVthe 
sea ? For this most glorious reason : — That the Eternal Sove- 
nay exercise his superbundant goodness ; that his ta- 
ble may be furnished with 5 millions and millions of guests: 
that h< »r, every moment, their mouths with 

food, or their hearts with glatl 

But v. 11 iLect'-e are three or four elements for the 

ons of Jehovah's bounty! His magnificent liberality 
scorns such* - If you ask. Where Tore has he cre- 

ated ail worlds, and replenished them with an unknown mul- 
tiplicity of beings, rising, one above another in an endless 
gradation of still richer endowments, and still nobler capaci- 
ties? The answer is, — For the manifestation of his own glory, 
and especially for the communication of his inexhaustible be- 
But he need not transform himself into this amiable pvinciph 
is love ;" as was much more nobly said by one, whom that philo?" 
[ would have termed a Barbarian, i John iv. 8. 

* A very celebrated poet, in a beautiml paragraph of Ids subject inform? 
his reader's, that all Nature swarms »» : ; i life, lu suBterreaean eells, the 
earth heaves with vital motion. Ev. ., the ha \ erv inmost 

recesses of its impenetrable citadi 1. holds multitudes of animated inhabi- 
tants, i'bc pulp of ir.' .-How fruit, ajid all the productions of the orchard, 
feed the invrsi ich liquid. Whether of acid taste, or milder 

relish. abounds with various forms of sensitive t\i? nee. Xm is the pure 
stream, or transparent rdr. without their colonies of unseen }>cople. — In 
wide!, co juration ofthings, we iiavea wonderful instance, not only of the 
Inline goodness fa. those n -unite beiiiL-s, in giving them a capacity fo» 
animm p-.v'.k-ations, but oi his tender care for mankind, in making them 
'imperceptible o our senses. 

— These; eonceal'd 

By the kind art of forming Rf*v'n, escape 
\ f of man : For. if the worlds 
In worlds incTbs'd should on '.i> ?< ii*<-s burst ; 
From cates an ncctar'd bowl, 

He'd turn abhorrent ; and ii 
Wken silence sleeps o'er all, be st«un*d with noise. 

Thmnmn* Summer. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 249 

nefinence.* — The great Creator could propose no advantage 
to himself. His bliss is incapable of any addition. "Before the 
" mountains were brought forth, or ever the earth and the 
" world were made," he was supremely happy inins own in- 
dependent and all-sufficient self. His grand design therefore, 
in erecting so many stately fabrics, and peopling them with so 
many tribes of inhabitants, was, to transfuse his exuberant 
kindness, and impart felicity in all its forms. Ten thousand 
worlds, stockedwith ten thousand times ten thousand, ranks of 
sensitive and intelligent existence, are so many spacious gar- 
dens, which, with rivers of communicated joy, this ever-flow- 
ing fountain waters continually. 

Boundless,* and (which raises our idea of this Divine prin- 
ciple, to the very highest degree of perfection) disinterested 
munificence !* How inexpressibly amiable is the blessed God, 
considered in this charming light I Is it possible to conceive 
any excellence so adorable and -ovely, as infinite benevolence, 
guided by unerring wisdom, and exerting Almighty power, 
on purpose to make a whole universe happy ! — O my soul what 
an irresistible attractive is here ? What a most worthy ob- 
ject, for thy most fervent affection ? Shall now every glitter- 
ing toy become a rival to this tranScendently-beneficent Being, 
and rob him of my heart ? — No. Let his all-creating arm teach. 
thee to trust in the fulness of his sufficiency: — Let his all-su- 
perintending eye incline thee to acquiesce in the dispensations 
of his Providence ;— And let his bounty, so freely vouchsafed, 
so amply diffused, induce thee to love him, with all the ardour 
of a grateful and admiring soul; induce thee to serve him, 
not with a joyless awe. or slavish dread, but with unfeigned 
alacrity, and a delightful complacency. 

If the goodness of God is so admirably seen in the works 
of Nature, and the favours of Providence ; with what a noble 

* A sacved writer* considering this delightful subject, and confining his 
observation within the narrow limits of his own country, cries out with 
a mixture of amazement and gratitude, How great is his goodness, and how 
great is his beautv !— Who then can forbear being lost in wonder, and trans- 
ported with deliglit, when he extends his survey to those" infinitely more 
copious communications of Divine bounty; which, like salutary and refresh- 
ing streams, run through a'l worlds ; and make, not only the little valleys 
of a single kingdom, but the immensity of creation, laugh, and sing. Zech. 
ix. 17. 

* * In this sense, there is none good, but One, that is God. None univer- 
sally and essentially good. Xone, whose goodness extends itself, in an infi- 
nite variety of blessings, to every capable object ; or, who always dispenses 
ha favours, from the sole principle of free and disinterested benerolemee. 



250 CONTEMPLATIONS 

superiority does it even triumph in the mystery of redemp- I 
tion !* Redemption is the brightest mirror, in which to con- 
template this most lovely attribute of the Deity. Other gifts 
are only as mites from the Divine treasury ; but redemption 
opens, I had almost said, exhausts, all the stores of indulgence 
and grace. Herein " God commendeth his love :-\ " Not only 
" manifests, but sets it off, as it were, with every bright and 
" grand embellishment : Manifests it in so stupendous a man- 
" ner, that it is beyond parallel ? beyond thought; above all 
'* blessing and praise." — Was he not thy Son, everlasting God, 
thy only Son ! the Son of thy bosom from eternal ages ; the 
highest object of thy complacential delight ? Was not thy love 
to this adorable Son, incomparably greater, than the ten- 
derest aflection of any, or the united affections of all, mortal 
parents ? Was not the blessed Jesus, more illustrious in excel- 
lency, than all angels ; more exalted in dignity, than all Hea- 
vens ? Yet didst thou resign him, for poor mortals ; for vile 
sinners! — Couldts thou see him descend from his royal throne ; 
and take up his abode in the sordid stable ? See him forego 
the homage of the seraphim ; and stand exposed to the re- 
proachful indignities of an insolent rabble ? See him arraigned 
at the bar, and sentenced to death ; numbered with malefac- 
tors, and nailed to the gibbet; bathed in his own innocent 
blood, and pouring out his soul in agonies of sorrow ?— Could 
the Father, the Father himself with unknown philanthropy, t 
say ? " It shall, It shall, be so ! My pity to rebellious man 
«' pleads, and prevails. Awake, therefore, O sword, § edged 
" with Divine wrath ; awake, and be sheathed in that imma- 

* la this, and in other parts of the Contemplations, the reader will ob- 
serve, that the attributes of the Deity are represented, as shining' with more 
distinguished lustre in the « ondevs or redemption, than in the works of cre- 
ation. If such remarks should seem to be unprecedented, or to stand in 
need of a vindication permit me to subjoin the sentiments of a great Critic, 
equally versed in both those sublime theories.—' - In a perfect orator,'' he 
" says, '• Tully requires some skill in the nature of heavenly bodies ; because 
" his mind will become more extensive and unconfined ; and, when he de- 
" scends to treat of human affairs, he will both think and write in a more 
* exalted and magnificent manner. For the same reason, that excellent 
" master would have recommended the stud}' of those great aj id glorious 
" mysteries, which revelation has discovered to us ; to which the noblest 
" parts of this system of the world, are as much inferior, as the creature is 
less excellent than the Creator." 

Spect. vol. VOL No. M3. 

t Rom. v. 8. 

4 Philanthopy, that is, loving-kindness to man. 

$ Zech. xiji. 7. 



OX THE STARRY-HEAVENS 251 

(i culate breast ; pierce that dearly-beloved heart. I am con- 
" tent, that my Son endure the sharpness of death ; rather 
c « than sinful mortals perish for ever." — Incomprehensible 
love { May it henceforward be the favourite subject of my me- 
ditation ; more delightful to my musing- mind, than applause 
to the ambitious ear ! May it be the darling theme of my li- 
ccurse ; sweeter to my tongue, than the droppings of the ho- 
ney-comb to my taste ! May it be my choicest comfort, through 
all the changes of life , and my reviving cordial, -even in the 
last extremities of dissolution itself! 

A prophet contemplating-, with a distant survey, this unex- 
ampled instance of Almig'hty love, is wrapt into atransportof 
devotion. At a loss for proper acknowledgments, he calls up- 
on the whole universe to aid his labouring breast, and supply 
his lack of praise. Sing melodiously, ye vaulted Heavens ; 
exult, and even leap for gladness, thou cumberous earth ; ye 
mountains break your long silence, and burst into peals of 
louden acclamation ;* for the Lord, by this precious gift, and 
this great salvation, hath comforted his people. — A sacred 
historian hath left it upon record, that, at the first exhibition 
of this ravishing scene, there was with the angel who brought 
the blessed tidings, a multitude of the Heavenly host, prais- 
ing God, and making the concave of the skies resound with 
jahs. At the dawn of the Sun of Righteousness, 
when he was beginning to rise with healing in his wings, the 
morning-stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted 
for j-.y — And shall muii, whom this gracious : dispensation 
principally respects ; shall man, who is the centre of all these 
gladdening rays ; shall he have no heart to adore, no anthem 
to celebrate this 

Love without end, and without measure Grace ! 

Milt. 



* Isa. xlix. 13.— I have not adhered to our common translation, but en- 
deavoured to preserve, somew hat more faithfully, the noble pathes, and in- 
imitable energy, of the sacred original. — The love of God, manifested in a 
Divine Sad dying Saviour, is a blessing of suefe inconceivable richness, as 
must render ail acknowledgements Hat. and all encomium? languid. Yet I 
thick, the most poetical and emphatical celebration of that unspeak:.' I - in- 
stance of goodness, is contained in this rapturous exclamation of the pro- 
phet. Wnieh intimates, with a wonderful majes' y of sentiment, that even 
the whole compass of the inanimate crea f ion, could it he sensible of the 
benefit, and capable of delight, would express its gratitude \ in all thesede- 
monstratious of the most lively and exuberant joy. 



252 CONTEMPLATIONS 

How pure is the state of the sky, and how clear its aspect I 
clearer, than the limpid steam : purer, than the transparent 
crystal; and more curiously fine, than the polished mirror. 
That stately ceiling, fretted with gold, and stretched to an 
extent of many millions of leagues, is not disfigured with a 
single flaw. That azare canopy, embroidered with stars, 
and spacious enough to form a covering for unnumbered 
worlds, is without the least spot or wrinkle. — Yet this, even 
this, will scarce yield us so much as a farnt representation of 
the Divine purity. God, is a God of matchless and transcen- 
dent excellency. His ways are uprightness itself His coun- 
sels and words are the very sanctity of wisdom and of truth. 
The laws which he lias given to universal Nature, are exqui- 
sitely contrived, and beyond all possibility of improvement. 
The precepts which he has appointed for the human race, 
are a complete summary of all that is honourable in itself, and 
perfective of the rational mind.— Not the least oversight, in 
planning a series of events for all futurity. Not the least mal- 
administration, in managing the affairs of every age since 
time began, and of every nation under the whole Heavens. — 
l J ardon these disparaging expressions. A negative perfec- 
tion is far, far beneath thy dignity, O thou Most Highest!* 
In all these instances ; in all thy acts, and all thy attributes ; 
thou art not only holy, but glorious in holiness." 

So inconceivably holy is the Lord God of hosts, that he 
sees defilement, even in the brightness of the firmament. 
The living sapphire of the Heavens, before his majesty, lores 
its lustre. Yea, the stars (though the most pure and resplend- 
ent part of the Heavens) are not pure in his sight. How much 

* O thou Most Highest!— This expression occurs more than once in the 
Psalms used by the established church. It is, I think, one of those beauties, 
which, because often exhibited, generally escapes our notice. It is a super- 
lative, formed on a superlative ; and, though not strictly conformable to 
grammatical rules, is nobly superior to them all.— 1 he language see. s to 
be sensible of its own deficiency, when the incomprehensible Jehovah is 
addressed, or celebrated. Oppressed, as it were, with the glories of the sub- 
ject, it labours after a more emphatical manner of diction, than the ordina- 
ry forms of speech afford.— It is, if I rightly judge, one of those daring and 
happy peculiarities of a masterly genius, which Mr. Pope so finely de- 
scribes ; and while he describes, exemplifies: 

Great Wits sometimes may gloriously offend, 
And rise to faults true Critics dare not mend ; 
From vulgar bounds \vith brave disorder part, 
And snatch a gjace beyond the reach of art. 

Essay on Criticism. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 253 

less man, who, in his fallen and depraved state, is but as a 
worm, that era wis in the corrupted carcass ; and the son of 
man, who, by reason of his manifold actual impurities, is too 
justly compared to an insect, that wallows amidst stench and 
putrefaction?* — Is there not then abundant cause, for the 
most irreproachable and eminent of mankind to renounce 
all arrogant pretensions ; to lay aside every assuming- air! to 
take nothing- but shame and confusion to themselves ? — A 
holy Prophet, and a holy Prince, felt such humbling impres- 
sions, from a glimpse of the uncreated purity. I abhor my- 
self in dust and ashes,j- was the declaration of the one; I am 
a man of unclean lips',* the confession of the other. — Should 
not this teach us all to adore the Divine mercies, for that 
precious purifying 1 fountain, § which was foretold from the 
foundation of the world, but was opened at that awful junc- 
ture, when knotty whips tore the flesh ; when ragged thorns 
mangled the temples ; when sharpened nails cut fresh sluicea 
for the crimson current ; when the gash of the spear complet- 
ed the dreadful work, and forthwith flowed there, from the 
wounded heart, blood and water ? 

St. Paul has a beautiful passage of the like nature; which our translators 
have very properly 'rendered, less than the least of all saints.— See Eph. iii. 8. 



* Job xxv. 5, 6. I submit it to the judgment of the Learned, whether this 
is not the true meaning; of the text. — It may not, pi-.rhaps, recommend itself 
to the squeamishly-nice Critic ; or to those persons who dream of, I know 
not'what, dignity in our fallen nature. But it seems, in preference to every 
other interpretation, suitable to the sacred context ; and is farj far from be- 
ing 1 injurious to the character of that apostate rac<\ which is '• altogether be- 
come abominable ," anr* ' ; is an unclean thing."— On this supposition, there 
is not only an apparent, but a very striking contrast, between the purity of 
God, and the pollution of man: The purity of the most high God, which 
outshines the moon, and eclipses the stars; the pollution of degenerate man, 
which, exclusive of a Saviour, would render him as loathsome to the Ail-see- 
ing eye as the vilest vermin are in' ours.— Without assigning this sense to 
the passage, I cannot discern the tbrce of the antithesis, nor indeed the pro- 
priety of the sentiment. Worms, in the general, give us an idea of m anuess 
and infirmity; not of defilement and impurity; unless they are insects, 
hatched amid st putrefaction, and considered in such noisome circumstances.— 
The two words of the original, are evidently used in this signification, by 
Moses and Isaiah : By the former to denote the vermine whicfi devoured the 
putrefied manna; by the latter, to express the reptiles which swarm in the 
body that sees corruption. Exod. xvi. 20. Isa. xiv. 11. 

t Job xlii. 6. X Isa. vi 5. 

§ In that day there shall be a fountain opened to the house of David, and 
to the inhabitants of Jerusalem, for sin, and for uncleanaess, Zech. xiii, 1. 

Y 



2.54 CONTEMPLATIONS 

Especially, since God himself saw no blemish in his dear 
Son. He lookcth to the moon, and it shineth not : Yet his 
all-penetrating and jealous eye discerned nothing' amiss, no- 
thing detective, in our glorious Redeemer. Nothing amiss ? 
He bore this most illustrious testimony concerning his holy 
child Jesus : " In him I am pleased ; I am well pleased ; I 
" acquiesce, with entire complacency, and with the highest 
"delight, in his person; his undertaking; and the whole 
" execution of his office." — How should this thought enliven 
our hopes, while the other mortifies our pride ? Should not 
our hearts spring within us, and even leap for joy, at the re- 
peated assurance given us by revelation that such a divinely- 
excellent person is our Mediator ? What apparent reason has 
every believer, to adopt the blessed virgin's exclamation? " My 
" sou! doth magnify the Lord, for his transcendent mercy ; 
" and my spirit rejoices, not in wide extended harvests, wav- 
45 ing- over my fertile glebe ;* not in armies vanquished, and 
" leaving the peculiar treasure of nations for my spoil ;* but 
«' in an infinitely richer, nobler blessing, even in God my Sa- 
" vioiu-." — That a person so sublime and perfect, has vouch- 
safed to become my Surety ; to give himself for my ransom, 
in the world below ; and act as my Advocate in the royal pre- 
sence above ; yea, to make my recovery the reward of his suf- 
ferings ; my final felicity, the honour of his mediatorial king- 
•dom ! 

When an innumerable multitude j of bodies, many of them 
more than a hundred thousand miles in diameter,? and all 
set in motion ; — when the orbits in which they perform their 
periodical revolutions, are extended at the rate of several hun- 
dreds of millions ; — when each has a distinct and separate 
sphere for finishing his vast circuit; — when no one knows 
what it is to be cramped ; but each most freely expatiates in 

* * The inspired penman, from these two occasions of distinguished joy, 
sets forth the incomparably greater delight which arises from the gift of a 
Saviour, and the blessing; of redemption. Isa. ix. ver. 3. compared with 



t This refers, not only to the planets which pass and repass about our sun, 
but aho to tlie other plauetary worlds, which are supposed to attend the se- 
veral fixed stars. 

X The diameter of Jupiter is calculated at 130,650 miles, while its orbit is 
reckoned to consist of 895,134,003. Which computation, according to the 
maxims of astronomv, and the laws of proportion, niay, as is taken for grant- 
ed ia the Contemplations, be applied to other planet* revolving round other 
suns. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS, 255 

his unbounded career ; — when every one is placed at such an 
immense remove from each other, that they appear to their 
respective inhabitants, only as so many spots of light : — How- 
astonishing- must be the expanse, which yields room for all 
those mighty globes, and their widely diffused operations ! 
To what prodigious lengths did the Almighty Builder stretch 
his line, when lie marked out the stupendous platform ! — I 
wonder at such an immeasurable extent. My very thoughts 
are lost in this abyss of space. But be it known to mortals, 
be it never forgot by sinners, that, in all its most surprising- 
amplitude, it is small, it is scanty, compared with the boun- 
ty and the mercy of its Maker. 

His bounty is absolutely without limits, * and without end. 
The most lavish generosity cannot exhaust, or even diminish, 
his munificence. O ! all ye tribes of men, or rather all ye 
classes of intelligent creatures, ye are not straitened in the 
liberality of your ever-blessed Creator; be not straitened in 
your own expectations. " Open your mouth wide, and he 
shall fill it," with copious and continual draughts from the 
cup of joy. Your God, on whom is your whole dependence, 
is more than able, is more than willing, to " supply all your 
need, according to his riches in glory." — -When the Lord 
Jehovah is the Giver, and his grace the gift,-}- let your wishes 
be unbounded, and your cravings insatiable. All that created 
beings can possibly covet, is but a very small pittance of that 
unknown happiness, which the everlasting Benefactor is rea- 
dy to bestow. Suppose every charitable disposition which 
warms the hearts of the human race, added to those more en- 
larged affections which glow in heavenly bosoms ; what were 
they all, even in their highest exercise, compared with the 

* By bounty, I mean, not the actual exercise, or the sensible effects, of 
this excellency -in the Deity. These are and always must be through the 
immense perfection of the attribute, and the necessary scantiness of the 
recipient, bounded. But I would be understood, as speaking of the Divine 
power, and the Divine will, to exert Divine beneficence. These can have 
no real, no imaginable limits. These after a profusion of blessings, distri- 
buted to unnumbered worlds, continued through unnumbered ages, must 
still have more to bestow ; for ever have more to bestow ; infinitely more 
to bestow than it is possible for creation itself to receive. 

t 2 Cor. ix. 8.God is able to make all grace abound towards you, that 
ye, having all sufficiency in all things may abound to every good work. — 
How beautiful and emphatical is this description ! inferior to nothing, but 
that extent of ability, and those riches of liberality, which it so eloquent- 
ly celebrates. Does it not exhaust all the powers of language, while it at- 
tempts to give us a specimen of the munificence of the Lord? 



iid CONTEMPLATIONS 

benignity of the divine nature ? — Bless me, then, thou Eter- 
nal Source of Love ; bless all that reverence thy holy name ; 
according- to thy own most profuse goodness, whose great 
prerogative it is to disdain all measure. O! bless us, in pro- 
portion to that grace; the richness of which (unutterable by 
the tongues of men, and of angels) was once spoken in the 
groans, and written in the wounds, of thy expiring Son ! 

Spacious indeed are these Heavens ! Where do they be- 
gin ? where do they end I wind is their extent ? Can angels 
answer my question ? have angels travelled the vast circuit ? 
ngela measure the bonnes of space? No; it is bound- 
less, it is unknown, it is amazing all. How charming then 
to reflect, that the mercy of God is " greater than the Heav- 
ens;" is more extensive than the dimensions of the sky! 
Transporting reflection ! let me indulge thee once more.* 
Let me think over the delightful displays of this lovely at- 
tribute ; and, while 1 admire the trophies of forgiving good- 
ness, add one to the number. — With what amiable and affect- 
ing colours, is this represented in the parable of the prodigal ! 
What could induce that foolish youth to forsake his father's 
house > Had he not been tenderly cherished by the good parent, 
■And loaded with benefits from his indulgent hand ? Were not 
the restraints of parental government an easy yoke : or rather, 
a preservative from ruin ? Notwithstanding every endearing 
obligation, he revolts from his duty ; and launches into such 
scandalous irregularities, as were dishonourable to his family, 
and destructive to himself. When necessity, not choice, but 
sharp necessity, drove him to a submissive return; does the 
injured father stand aloof, or shut-his doors? Quite the re- 
verse. He espies him, while he is yet a great way off; and, 
the moment he beholds the profligate youth, he has compas- 
sion on him. His bowels yearn ; they "sound l'ke an harp," 
touctied with notes divinely soft. He never once thinks of 
his ungracious departure, and infamous debaucheries. Pity, 
parental pity, passes an act of oblivion ; and, in one instant, 

* Once more refers to page 103. vol. I. of reflections on a FJower-Gar- 
den. The following pilots, to the 155ih, exhibit a digressive \\> v of (he 
Divine mercy. I thought it proper to apprize my reader of this exeursi 
though. I hope, it will be needless to oflfc r an apoSogj for enlarging I 
a theme incomparably joyous. Who can complain of'tediousiiein, w ! 
speak consolation to distressed and recovt ry 10 mined cr. atnv* s ? 1 1m Di- 
vine mercy is the sole fountain of all our present and mine blessings. In 
proportion to this benign attribute, human hopes arise, and human fi Ikity 
nous. Who. therefore,' can be weary of \h.\ung, ai:d reviewn gwhentbfi 
lengths and brtadths of forgiving grace are the ravishing prospect? 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 

Cancels a series of long-continued provocations. — So strong 
are the workings of fatherly affection, that he is almost Impa- 
tient to embrace the naked and destitute wretch. The son's 
pace is slow, He arose, and came ; the father's is swift, He 
sprung 1 forth (aged as he was), and ran. And is there a sin- 
gle frown in his brow, or one upbraiding" word on his -tongue : 
— Instead of loathing the sordid creature, or reproaching- hhfk 
for his odious excesses ; he falls on his neck, clasps him in his 
arms, and hugs him to his bosom. Instead of disowning the 
riotous spendthrift, or rejecting him for his undutiidl beha- 
viour; he receives and welcomes hiin with kisses of delight. 
He rejoices at his return from extravagance and vice, as he 
formerly rejoiced on the day of his nativity.— When this com- 
panion of harlots opens his mouth, before he speaks, the fa- 
ther hears. He interrupts him, in the midst of his intended 
speech. The overflowings of his compassionate heart can 
brook no delay. He seems to be uneasy himself, till he has 
made the afflicted penitent glad, with the assurance of his 
acceptance, and the choicest of his favours. While the poor 
abashed offender seeks nothing more than not to be abhorred, 
he is thoroughly reconciled, and honoured before the whole 
family. While he requests no other indulgence, than only 
to be treated as the meanest servant; he is clothed with the 
best robe ; he is feasted with the fatted calf; he is caressed 
as the dearest of children. — Was there ever so bright and win- 
ning a picture of the tenderest mercy, most freely vouchsafed, 
even to the most unworthy of creatures r Yet thus, my soul ; 
and thus, my fellow-sinner; will the Lord God of everlast- 
ing compassions receive us, if, sensible of our misery, and 
thirsting for salvation, we turn to him through Jesus Christ. 
Where sin has abounded, says the proclamation from the 
court of Heaven, grace doth much more abound. — Manasseh 
was a monster of barbarity ; for he caused his own children; 
to pass through the fire, and filled Jerusalem with innocent 
blood. Manasseh was an adept in iniquity ; for he not only 
multiplied, and to an extravagant degree, his own sacrilegious 
impieties ; but he poisoned the principles, and perverted the 
manners, of his subjects, making them to do worse than th© 
most detestable of the Heathen idolaters.* Yet, through this 

* See 2 Chron. xxxiii. 



258 CONTEMPLATIONS 

superabundant grace, he. is humbled ; he is reformed ; and 
becon.es a child of forgiving love, an heir of immortal glory- — 
Behold that bitter and bloody persecutor Saul ; when, breath- 
ing out threatnings,* and bent upon slaughter, he worried 
the lambs, and put to death the disciples of Jesus. Who, up- 
on the principles of human judgment, would not have pro- 
nounced him a vessel of wrath, destined to unavoidable dam- 
nation ? nay, wouid not have been ready to conclude, that, if 
there were heavier chains, and a deeper dungeon, in the 
world of woe ; they must surely be reserved for such an im- 
placable enemy of true godliness ? Yet (admire and adore the 
inexhaustible treasures of grace !) this Saul is admitted into 
the goodly fellowship of the Prophets ; is numbered with the 
noble army of* Martyrs : and makes a distinguished figure 
among the glorious company of the apostles. — The Corin- 
thians were flagitious, even to a proverb. Seme of them 
wallowed in such abominable vices, and habiutated themselves 
to such outrageous acts of injustice, as were a reproach to 
human nature. Yet even these sons of violence, and slaves of 
sensuality, " were washed; were sanctified; were justifi- 
ed :''-j- Washed, in the precious blood of a dying Redeemer; 
sanctified, by the powerful operations of the blessed Spirit ; 
justified, through the infinitely-tender mercies of a gracious 
God. Those who were once the burden of the earth, are 
now the joy of Heaven, and the delight of Angels. 

There is another instance in scripture, which most loudly, 
publishes that sw r eetest of the Divine names, " The Lord, the 
Lord God, merciful and gracious, long suffering', and abun- 
dant in goodness and truth ; keeping mercy for thousands, for- 
giving iniquity, transgression, and sin."* An instance this 

* Acts xi. 1. Saul yet breathing out threatening and slaughter.— What 
a representation is here of a mind mad with rage, and abandoned to the 
fiercest extremes of barbarity ! I scarce know, whether I am more shocked 
at the Persecutor's savage disposition, or charmed with the Kvangelist's 
lively description.— The ha*ockhe had committed. the inofFensive'families 
he had already ruined, were not sufficient to assuage his vengeful spirit. 
They were only a taste ; which, instead of glutting the blood-hound, made 
him more closely pursue the track, and more eagerly pant for destruction. 
—He is still a thirst for xiolenee and murder. Soeage r and insatiable is his 
thirst, that he even breathes out threatening and slaughter. His words 
are spears and arrows, and his tongue a sharp sword. ? Tis as natural for 
him to menace the Christians, as to breath the air.— Nay, they bleed every 
hour, every moment, in the purposes of his rancorous heart. It is only ow- 
ing to want of power, that every syllable he utters every breatli lie draws, 
does not deal about deaths, and cause some of the innocent disciples to 
fall. 

t 1 Cor. vi. o, jo, ll. t Exod. xxxiv. 6, 7 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS, 259 

■which exceeds all the .former* which exceeds whatever can 
be imagined ; which, if I was to forget, the very stones might 
cry out, and sound it in my ears. I mean the case of those 
sinners who murdered the prince of Peace, and Lord of Glo- 
ry. — 1'hese men could scarce have the shadow of an excuse 
far their crime ; hardly a circumstance to extenuate their guilt, 
They were well acquainted with his exemplary conversation ; 
they had often heard, ids heavenly doctrines ; they were al- 
most daily spectators of his unequalled miracles; They there* 
lore had all possible reason to honour him, as the most illus- 
trious of Beings ; and to receive his gospel, as the most ines- 
timable of blessings. Yet, not -withstanding all these engag- 
ing motives to love him, even above their own lives, they 
seize his person s asperse his character ; drag him before a 
Heathen tribunal ; and extort a sentence of death against in- 
nocence and holiness itself. Never was the vilest slave so 
contumelious iy abused ; nor the most execrable malefactor so 
barbarously executed. The sun was confounded at the shock- 
ing scene; and one cannot but wonder, how the avenging 
lightnings could withhold their flashes. The earth trembled 
at the horrid deed : and why, why did it not cleave asunder, 
and open a passage, for such blood-thirsty miscreants, into the 
nethermost hell ? shall these ever hope to obtain forgiveness 
from the righteous Judge ? Shall not these be consigned over 
to inexorable wrath, and the severest torments ? — O the mi- 
raculous effects of Divine grace ! O the triumphant goodness 
of God our Saviour ! Many, even of these impious wretches, 
at the descent of the Holy Ghost, where convinced of their 
miserable state; were wounded with penitential remorse ; fled 
to the sanctuary of the cross ; had their pardon ratified by the 
baptismal seal ; and, continuing in the Apostle's doctrine, 
were made partakers of the kingdom of Heaven ; where 
they now shine, as so manj everlasting monuments of most 
distinguished mercy ; and receive beatitude past utterance, 
from that very Redeemer, whom once " with wicked hands 
they crucified and slew." 

Well might the Prophet cry out, with a pleasing amaze- 
ment, " Who is a God like unto thee, thatpardoneth iniquity 
and passeth by transgression {"* — Let all flesh know assured- 
ly ; let all flesh rejoice greatly; that with the Lord there is 
such mercy, and with his Christ such plentiful redemption.— 



260 CONTEMPLATIONS 

And O ! for the voice of an archangel, to circulate the glad 
tidings through the universe ; that the American savage, as 
welt as the European sage, may learn the exceeding- riches of 
grace in Christ ; through whose infinitely great propitiation, 
all manner of sin, barbarity, and blasphemy, arc free iy forgiv- 
en unto men. 

What a grand and majestic dome is the sky ! Where are 
the pillars which support the stately concave I What art, most 
exactly true, balanced the pressure ? What props, of insuper- 
able strength, sustain the weight ? How is that immeasura- 
ble arch upheld, unshaken and unimpared; while so many 
generations of busy mortals have sunk, and disappeared, as 
bubbles upon the stream ? If those stars are of such an amaz- 
ing bulk, how are they also fastened in their lofty situation ? 
By what miracle in mechanics, are «o many thousands of pon- 
derous orbs kept from falling upon our heads ; kept from dash- 
ing, both the world to pieces, and its inhabitants to death ? 
Are they hung in golden or adamantine chains ? Rest they 
their enormous load on rocks of marble, or columns of brass ? 
—No; they are pendulous in fluid aether; yet are more im- 
moveably fixed, than if the everlasting mountains lent their 
forests for an axle-tree, or their ridges for a basis. The Al- 
mighty Architect stretches out the North, and its whole star- 
ry train, over the empty place. He hangs the earth, and all 
the sethereal globes, upon nothing. * Yet are their foundations 
laid so sure, that they can never be moved at any time. 

No unfit representation, to the sincere Christian, of his fi- 
nal perseverance ;f such as points out the cause which effect* 

• Job xxvi. 7. 

+ With regaifl to the final perseverance of the true believer, I am sen- 
sible, this point is not a little controverted.— The sentiments which follow, 
are my stedfast belief. It is by no means proper, in a work of this nature, 
to enter upon a discussion of the subject. Neither have I room, >>o much 
as to hint, what might be urged for its support.*-X.et my Reader observe, 
that I am far from delivering it, as essential to Christianity, or necessary to 
salvation. Millions, of the very contrary conviction, are, I doubt not, 
high in the favour of God, and a growing meekness for his heavenly king- 
dom. As I blame none for rejecting, J none, I hope, will be offended with 



i As the final perseverance of the saints is as much the doctrine of the Bi- 
ble, as justuieiition by the imputed righteousness of Christ; our author's 
charity' here stems so be culpable; and certainly those who impugn any 
doctrine of Christianity, are worthy of reproof. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 261 

it, and constitutes the pledge which ascertains it. — His nature 
is all enfeebled. He is not able, of himself, to think a good 
thought. He has no visible safeguard, nor any sufficiency of 
his own. And yet whole legions of formidable enemies are in 
a confederacy to compass his ruin. The world lays unnum- 
bered snares for his feet : The devil is incessantly urging the 
siege, by a multitude of fiery darts, or wily temptations : The 
flesh, like a perfidious inmate, under colour of friendship, 
and a specious pretence of pleasure, is always forward to be- 
tray his integrity. — But, amidst all these threatening circum- 
stances, of personal weakness, and imminent danger, an invi- 
sible aid is iiis defence. •' I will uphold thee," says the bles- 

me for espousing this particular doctrine. To be of different opinions, at 
least in some inferior instances, seems an unavoidable consequence of our 
present state ; where ignorance, in part, cleaves to the wisest minds ; and pre- 
judice easily besets the most impartial jude-ments. This may_ turn to our com- 
mon advantage ; and afford room for the display and exercise of those heal- 
ing virtues, moderation, meekness, and forbearance. Let me only be per- 
mitted to ask, whether this tenet does not evidently tend to establish the 
comfort of the Christian, and to magnify the fidelity of God our Saviour ? 
whether, far from countenancing sloth, or encouraging remissness, to know 
that our labour shallnot be in vain, is not the most prevailing inducementto 
abound in the work of the Lord ? I Cor. xv. 58. 

Is aivy one inclined to examine the reasons which made the author a 
proselyte to this persuation ? He may find them displayed in the memorial, 
delivered by several select and eminent Divines of the" church of England, 
at the renowned Synod of Dort.— (See Acta Synod. Dordrech. par. II. p. 
246. of the Latin edition, published in a single quarto volume.)— Those who 
have no opportunity of consulting the memoirs of that venerable assembly, 
I would refer to the Works of the indefatigable and very learned Turretin, 
or to those of the candid and elegant Witsius.— Turret, torn. 11. q. xvi. 
Wits. Oecon. lib. III. chap. xiii. 

The latest and fullest view of the point, which I ever remember to have 
met with, in any of our English writers, is in the Lime-street lectures: 
which are a defence of several most important doctrines of the gospel, and 
contained in two octavo volumes ; the united labours of t.me modern Di- 
vints ; most of whom are well known to the world by their other evangeli- 
cal and useful writings. In those lectures, the final perseverance of the 
saints is verj particularly stated, and, to my apprehension at feast, most 
satisfactorily proved. The arguments, usually urged against it, are impart 
tialiy considered ; and I cannot but think (with all due deference to the 
judgment of others) unanswerably confuted. 

And here (not to swell this note any farther) I shall only just hint, that 
the judicious Hooker (an authority, perhaps, as weighty and unexceptiona- 
ble as any that can well be produced) gives a solemn attestation to this te- 
net, in a short discourse on the perpetuity of faith, subjoined to his Eccle- 
siastical Polity, fol. edit. 



262 CONTEMPLATIONS 

sed God, " with the right hand of my righteousness." * Com- 
fort&ble truth ! the arm, Which fixes the stars in their order, 
and guides the planets in their course, is stretched out to pre- 
serve the heirs of salvation. — " My sheep," adds the great Re- 
deemer, "are mine; and they shall never perish; neither 
shalL any pluck them out of my hand."f What words are 
these! and did they come from him, who hath all power in 
Heaven, and on earth ! and were they spoke to the weakest 
of the fiock, to every unfeigned follower of the great Shep- 
herd ? Then omnipotence itself must be vanquished, before 
they can be destroyed, either by the seductions of fraud, or 
the assaults of violence. 

If you ask, therefore, What security we have of enduring 
to the end, and continuing faithful unto death ? — The very 
same that establishes the Heavens, and settles the ordinances 
of the universe. Can these be thrown into confusion ?$ Then 
may the true believer draw back unto perdition. Can the 
sun be dislodged from his sphere, and rush lawlessly through 
the sky ? Then, and then only, can the faith of God's elect § 
be finally overthrown. — Be of good courage then, my soul ; 
rely on those Divine succours, which are so solemnly stipula- 
ted, so faithfully promised. Though thy grace be languid as 
the glimmering spark ; though the overflowings of corruption 
threaten it with total extinction ; yet, since the great Jehovah 
has undertaken to cherish the dim principle, " many waters 
" cannot quench it, nor all floods drown it." Nay, though it 
were feeble as the smoking flax, || goodness and faithful- 

* Isa. xli. 10. f John x. 28. X Jer. xxxi. 35, 36. $ Tit. i. 2. 

U The tenderness and faithfulness ( f God to his people, are finely pictur- 
ed by the prophet Isai.ih, chap. xlii. ver. 3. Which p;is.<>:.ge, because of its 
rich consolation, and uncommon beauty, is deserved!) adopted by St. Mat- 
thew, and ingrafted into the system or evangelical truths.— He will not 
himself break, nor suffer to be broken by an) other, the bruised reed ; nor 
quench the smoking flax. Was it possible to have chosen two more deli- 
cate, and expressive representations ? Could any image be more significant 
of a very infirm and enfeebled faith than the flexile reed, that bends before 
every wind? which besides its natural weakness, is made abundantly wea- 
ker by being bruised, and so is ready to fall in pieces of itself.— Or Could 
any thing, with a more pathetical exactness describe the extreme imbeci- 
lity of that other principle of the Divine life, love ? The suite of the flax, 
just beginning to burn, is liable to be put out by the least blast : More liable 
still is the wick of the lamp, when it is not so much as kindled into a glim- 
mering flame but only breathing smoke, and uncertain whether it shall 
take fire or no.— Yet true faith, and heavenly love, though subsisting amidst 
snch pitiable infirmities, will not be abandoned by thtir great Author ; shall 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 263 

ness stand engaged, to augment the heat; to raise the fire, 
and feed the tiame ; till it beam forth a lamp of immortal 
glory, in the Heavens. 

As to the faithfulness of a covenanting God, this may be 
emblematically seen in the stability of the heavenly bodies, 
and the perpetuity of their motions. — Those that are fixed or 
stationary, continue unalterable in their grand elevations. No 
injurious shocks, no violence of conflicting elements, are able 
to displace those everlasting hinges, on which dependent worlds 
revolve. Through the whole flight of time, they recede not, 
so much as a hair's breadth, from the precise central point of 
their respective systems, while the erratic, or planetary, per- 
form their prodigious stages, without any intermission, or the 
least embarrassment. How soon, and how easily, is the most 
finished piece of human machinery disconcerted ! But all the 
celestial movements are so nicely adjusted, all their opera- 
tions so critically proportioned, and their mutual dependen- 
cies so strongly connected, that they prolong their beneficial 
courses throughout ail ages. — While mighty cities are over- 
whelmed with ruin, and their very names lost in oblivion; 
while vast empires are swept from their foundations, and leave 
not so much as a shadowy trace of their ancient magnificence; 
while all terrestrial things are subject to vicissitude, and fluc- 
tuating in uncertainty : These are permanent in their dura- 
tion ; these are invariable in their functions : " Not one fail- 
eth." — Who doubts the constant succession of day and night, 
or the regular returns of Summer and Winter ? And why, O ! 
why shah we doubt the veracity of God, or distrust the ac- 
complishment of his holy word ? Can the ordinances of Heav- 
en depart ? — Then only can God forget to be gracious or ne- 
glect the performance of his promise. — Nay, our Lord gives 
us yet firmer ground of affiance He affords us a surer bottom 
for our faith, than the fundamental laws of the universe. 
Heaven and earth, he says, shall pass away : but my words 
shall not, in a single instance, or in one tittle of their import, 
pass away. No ! His sacred word, whatever may obstruct it, 
whoever may oppose it, shall be fulfilled to the very uttermost. 

O powerful word! how astonishing: is its efficacy ! When 
this world was issued forth, a thousand worlds emerged out 
of nothing. Should the mighty orders be repeated, a thou- 

not be extinguished byany temptation ; but be maintained, invieroreted ani 
aade finally triumphant. Matth. sii. 20. 

*Psal. cxix. 89,90. 



264 CONTEMPLATIONS 

sand more would spring into existence. By this word, the 
vast system of created things is upheld, in constant and im- 
mutable perfection. Should it give command, or cease to ex- 
ert its energy, the universal frame would be dissolved, and all 
Nature revert to her original chaos. And this very word is 
pledged for the safety, the comfort, the happiness of the god- 
ly. This inviolable, this almighty word, speaks in all the pro- 
mises of the gospel. — How strangely infatuated are our souls, 
that we should value it so little ? What infidels are we in fact, 
that we should depend upon it no more 1 Did it create what- 
ever has a being ; and shall it not work faith in our breasts ? 
Do unnnumbered worlds owe their support to this word, and 
shall it not be sufficient to buoy uj> our scuis in troubles, or 
establish them in trials ? Is it the life of the universe, and 
shall it be a dead letter to mankind ? 

If I wish to be heard when I implore heavenly blessings; 
is not this privilege most clearly made over to my enjoyment, 
in that well-known text, Ask, and " it shall be given you ?" * — 
If I long for the Eternal Comforter, to dwell in my heart, and 
sanctify my nature ; have I not an apparent title to this high 
prerogative, conferred in that sweet assertive interrogation, 
u How much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy 
Spirit to those that ask him?"f — If I earnestly covet the ines- 
timable treasures that are comprised in the great Immanuel's 
mediation ; can I have a firmer claim to the noble portion, 
than is granted in that most precious scripture; " Him that 
coraeth to me, I will in nowise cast out:" i — What assurance 
of being interested in these unspeakable mercies would I de- 
sire I What form of conveyance, what deed of settlement, 
were it left to my own option, should 1 choose ? Here is the 
word of a King ; the King immortal and invisible ; all whose 
declarations are truth itself. § — If a monarch bestow immuni- 
ties on a body of men, and confirms them by an authentic 
charter; no one controverts, no one questions, their right to 
the royal favours. And why should we suspect the validity 
of those glorious grants, which are made by the everlasting 
Sovereign of Nature; which he has also ratified by an oath, 
and sealed with the blood of his Son ?— Corporations may be 
disfranchised, and charters revoked. Even mountains may 

* Matt. vii. 7. t Luke ix. 13. J John vi. 37. 

$ If these fait, 

The pillar'd firmament is rottenness. 

And earth's base built on stubble. MU f . Comus. 



ON THE STARRY -HEAVENS. 265 

be removed, and stars drop from their spheres : But a tenure 
founded on the Divine promise, is unalienably secure, is last- 
rag- as eternity itself. 

We have endeavoured to spell a syllable of the Eternal 
name, in the ancient manuscript of the sky. We have catch- 
ed a glimpse of the Almighty's glory, from the lustre of in- 
numerable stars. But would we behold all his excellencies 
portrayed in full perfection, and drawn to the very life ; let 
us attentively consider the Redeemer. — I observe, there are 
some parts of the firmament, in which the stars seem, as it 
were, to cluster. They are sown thicker, they lie closer, than 
usual ; and strike the eye with redoubled splendor. Like 
the jewels on a crown, they mingle their beams, and reflect 
an increase of brilliancy on each other. — Is there not such an 
assemblage, such a constellation of the Divine honours, most 
amiably effulgent in the blessed Jesus ? 

Does not infinite wisdom* shine, with surpassing brightness 
in Christ ? To the making of a world, there was no obstacle j 
but to the saving of man, there seemed to be unsurmountable 
bars. If the rebel is "suffered to escape, where is the inflexi- 
ble justice, which denounces " death as the wages of sin ?" 
If the offender is thoroughly pardoned ; where is the inviolable 
veracity, which has solemnly declared, " the soul that sinneth, 
shall die ?" These awful attributes are set in terrible array ; 
and, like an impenetrable battalion, oppose the salvation of 
apostate mankind. Who can suggest a method to absolve the 
traitorous race, yet vindicate the honours of Almighty Sove- 
reignty ? This is an intricacy, which the most exalted of finite 
intelligences are unable to clear. — But behold the unsearcha- 
ble secret revealed I revealed in the wonderful redemption, 
accomplished by a dying Saviour ! so plainly revealed, that " he 
" who runs may read;" and even babes understand, what 
minds of the deepest penetration could not contrive. — The 
Son of God, taking our nature, obeys the law, and undergoes 
death, in our stead. By this means, the threatened curse is ex- 
ecuted in all its rigour, and free grace is exercised in all its 
riches. Justice maintains her rights, and with a steady hand, 
administers impartial vengeance ; while mercy dispenses her 
pardons, and welcomes the repentant criminal into the tender- 
est embraces. Hereby the seemingly thwarting attributes are 
reconciled. The sinner is saved, not Only in full consistence 
with the honour of the Supreme perfections, but to the most 
illustrious manifestation of them all. 

* See the next note. 
Z 



266 CONTEMPLATIONS 

Where does the Divine power* so signally exert itself, as 
? in the cross of Christ, and in the conquests of grace ? — Our 
Lord, in his lowest state of humiliation, gained a more glori- 
ous victory, than when through the dividing sea, and the waste 
howling wilderness, he "rode upon his chariots and horses of 
salvation." When his hands were riveted, with iron*, to the 
bloody tree ; he disarmed death of its sting, and plucked the 
prey from the jaws of hell. Then, even then, while he was cru- 
cified in weakness, he vanquished the strong man, and 
subdued our most formidable enemies. Even then, he spoil- 
ed principalities, triumphed over the powers of darkness, and 
led captivity captive. — Now he is exalted to his heavenly 
throne, with what a prevailing efficacy does his grace go forth 
"conquering, and to conquer!" — By this, the slaves of sin 
are rescued from their bondage, and restored to the liberty 
of righteousness. By this, depraved wretches, whose ap- 
petites were sensual, and their dispositions devilish, are not 
only renewed, but renewed, afier the image of God, and made 
partakers of a Divine nature. Millions, millions of lost crea- 
tures, are snatched, by the interposition of Grace, like brands 
from the burning; and translated into everlasting mansions, 
shine brighter than the stars, shine bright as the sun, in the 
kingdom of their Father. 

Would you then see an incomparably more brig-lit display 

of the Divine excellence, than the unspotted firmament, the 

:es of Heaven, or the golden fountain of day, exhibit ■ 

riplate Jesus of Nazareth. He is the brightness of his 

• ; s glory, and the express image of his person. In his 

i ni maculate nature," in his heavenly temper, in his most holy 

life j the moral perfections of the Deity are represented to the 

highest advantage .| — Hark ! how Mercy with her charming 

voice, speaks in all he utters. See ! how benevolence pours 

her choicest stores, in all he docs. Did ever Compassion look 

so amiably soft, as in those pitying tears, which swelled his 

■ yes, and trickled down his cheeks, to bedew the rancour of his 

inveterate enemies ? — Was it possible for Patience to assume 

* Christ, the wisdom of god, and the power of God. 1 Cor. i. 25.— To the 
intent that now, unto the principalities and powers in heavenly places, 
rai'^ht he known hy the church (by the. amazing contrivance, and accom- 
plishment of its redemption) the deep, extensive, and greatly diversified 
wisdom of God. Eph. Hi. 10. 

t In this sense, that saying of our Lord is eminently true. He that hath 
;or i t Me, hath seen the Father. John xiv. 9. 



ON THE STARRYHEAVENS. 267 

q so lovely, as the sweetly- winning conduct, which bore 
the contradiction of sinners ; which entreated the obstinate 
to be reconciled, besought the gtulity not to die ? — In other 
things, we may find some scattered rays of Jehovah's glory ; 
but in Christ, they are all collected and united In Christ they 
': rth, With the strongestradiance, with the most delight- 
ful effulgence. Cut of Sion, and in Sion's great Redeemer, 
hath God appeared in perfect beauty. 

soul, above all other pursuits, search the re- 
cords _ . love. Le: e principal objects 
of thy study. Here employ thysel ..wearied as- 
siduity .re hid ah the treasures of wisdom and ~'v 
led.^e ..:m-,as charms and astonish.es the i e 
erigag : -st : tterition, and fills them with the ch 
adoration.. p Such knowledge, as qualifies the possessor, if not 
for offices of dignity on earth, \et for the most honourable ad- 
vancements in the kingdom of "heaven. Disunited from which. 
knowledge, all application is but elaborate impertinence ; and 
all science, no better than pompous ignorance. — These records 
contain the faultless model of duty, and the noblest motives to 
obedience. Nothing so powerful to work a lively faith, and a 
joyful hope, as an attentive consideration of cur Lord's -unutter- 
able merits. Nothing so sovereign to antidote the pestilential 
influence of the world, and deliver our affections from a slave- 
ry to ignoble ejects, as an habitual remembrance of his ex- 
treme agonies. The genuine, the ever-fruitful source 

* Coloss. ii. 3.— Not a mean degree, but a treasure; not one treasure, 
but many ; not many only, but ail treasures, of true wisdom, arid saving 
knowledge; are in Christ, and his glorious gospel. — The transcendent ex- 
cellency of those treasures seems to be finely intimated, in that other ex- 



pression hid ; laid up; with the utmost care, and the greatest safety. Not 
left at all adventures, to be stumbled upon by every "giddy wanderer ; or 
to fall into the arms of the ya^T.ing sluggard ; but, like Jewels of the bright- 
est lustre, or riches of the highest value, kept in store, to adorn and reward 
the diligent searcher. 

+ This, I believe, is the import of the apostle's language, though it is not 
a literal translation. 1 Pet. i. 12. — I never had suchalively apprehension of 
the beautiful signiflcancy of the last word, as when I have attended a dis- 
section of some part of the animal Lo 'y. In order to discern the minutiae 
of the admirable frame, the latent wonders of art and mechanism, the eye 
is so sharpened, and its application so intensely bended, as gives a very just 
experimental comment on that expressive phrase.— With sr.ch e mest at- 
tention is the everlasting jrospel contemplated, by the angelic ord rs ! How 
much move, if it were possible. does it deserve the'devout and incessant con- 
sideration of human minds ? since, by them, it is not only to be speculated, 
as a bright arid ravishing display of the Divine attribute's ; but to be appli- 
ed to their fallen nature, as a most benign scheme of recovering grace ; as 
. life and immortality. 



263 CONTEMPLATIONS 

morality, is the unfeigned love of Christ ; and the cross, the 
Cross, is the appointed * altar, from which we may fetch a 
coal,f to enkindle this Sacred fire. 

Behold, therefore, the man ; the matchless and stupendous 
man ; whose practice was a pattern of the most exalted virtue, 
and his person the mirror of every Divine perfection. Exam- 
ine the memoirs of his heavenly temper, and exemplary con- 
versation. Contemplate that choir of graces, which were as- 
sociated in his mind, and shed the highest lustre on all his ac- 
tions. Familiarize to thy thoughts his instructive discourses, 
and enter into the very spirit of his refined doctrines: That 
the graces maybe transfused mtbthy breast, and the doctrines 
transcribed in thy life. — Follow him to Calvary's horrid emi- 
nence ; to Calvary's fatal catastrophe ; where innocence, dig- 
nity, and merit, were made perfect through sufferings : each 
ihinlng, with all possible splendor, through the tragical scene ; 
somewhat like his own radiant bow, then glowing with the 
greatest beauty, when appearing on the darkest cloud. — Be 
thy most constant attention fixed on that lovely and sorrowful 
spectacle. Behold the spotless victim nailed to the tree, and 
stabbed to the heart. Hear him pouring out prayers for his 
murderers, before he poured out his soul for transgressors. 
See the wounds that stream with forgiveness, and bleed balm 
for a distempered world. O ! see the justice of the Almighty 
and his goodness; his mercy and his vengeance ; every tre- 
mendous and gracious attribute manifested, manifested with 
inexpressible glory, in that most ignominious, yet grandest, 
of transactions. 

Since God is go inconceivably great, as these his marvel- 
lous works declare ; 

Since the great Sov'reign sends ten thousand worlds, 
To tell us, he resides above them all. 
In glory's unapproachable recess ;£ 

hfcrw can we forbear hastening, with Moses, bowing ourselves 
to the earth, and worshipping ? O ! what an honourable, as 

* And I, says our Lord, if I be lifted up from the earth, and extruded on 
the cross, will draw all men unto me; will jyive such a rich, and transcen- 
dent display of my love, as shall constitute the most powerful and prevail- 
ing attractive of theirs. John xii. 32. 

t Alluding to Isaiah vi. 6. 

4 For this quotation, and several valuable hints, I acknowledge myself in- 
debted to those beautiful and sublime poems, entitled Nighi-Tnoug/its.—Of 
whichlshall only say,that I receive fresh pleasure t »nd richer improvement, 



-ntag-eous er- ...ageous. By 

prayer, we ; -.despondence -with Je- 

hovah ; we carry ng intercourse with his 

in order to be complete*! Ml 
y — Honourable. By prayer, we have access to that 
: :"-itate, whose sceptre sways universal Nature, and 
ae skies with lustre. Prayer places us 
in his presence-chamber; while "the blood of sprinkling" 
procures us a gracious audience. 

^Shail I then blush to be found prostrate before the throne 
of grace ? Shall I be ashamed to have it known, that I offer up 
social supplications in the family, or am conscientious in ob- 
serving my private retirements ? Rather, let me gior\ in this 
noblest posture, to fall low on my knees before his footstool ; 
and reckon it the highest honour, to enjoy communion with 
his most exalted Majesty — Incomparably more noble, than 
to sit, in person, on the triumphal chariot ; or to stand, in 
effigy, amidst the temple of worthies. 

Most inestimable, in such a view, is that promise, which so 
often occurs in the prophetic writings and is the crowning- 
benefit of the new covenant, I will be thy God * — Will this 
supremely excellent and Almighty Being vouchsafe to be my 
portion; to settle upon a poor sinner, noc the heritage of a 
country', not the possession of the whole earth ; but his own 
ever-blcSMrd scir ? May 1 then, through his free condescend- 
ing grace, and the unknown merits of his Son, look upon all 
these infinitely noble attributes as my treasure ? May I regard 
the wisdom, which superintends such a multitude of worlds, 
as my guide ; the power, which produced, and preserves them 
in existence, as my guard; the goodness, which, by an endless 
communication of favours, renders them all so many habitati- 
ons of happiness, as my exceeding great reward ? — What a 
fund of felicity is included in such a blessing ! How often does 
the Israelitish Prince exult in the assurance, that this unutter- 
able and boundless good is his own ? Interested in this, he 



from every renewed perusal. And, I think, I shall have reason to bless the 
indulgent Bestower of all wisdom, for those instructive and animating eom= 
positions, even in ray last moments. Than which nothing can more empha- 
tically speak their superior excell nee, norgive a more solid satisfaction to 
their "worthy author.— Happy should I think my self, if these little sketches 
of contemplative devotion might be. honoured with the most inferior degree 
of the same success ; might receive a testimony, not from the voiceof f&Eoe : 
hut from the dying lips oi' some edified Christian J 

* Heb. viii. 10, 
Z2 



CONTEMPLATIONS 

bids defiance to every evil that can be dreaded, and rests in 
certain expectation of every blessing- that can be desired. The 
Lord is my light, and my salvation ; whom then shall I fear ! 
The Lord — (with an air of exultation, he repeats both his affi- 
ance, and his challenge) is the strength of my life ; of whom 
then shall I be afraid ! * — Nothing. so effectual, as this appro- 
priating faith, to inspire a dignity of mind, superior to transi- 
tory trifles ; or to create a calmness of temper, unalarmed by 
vulgar fears, unappalled by death itself.— The -Lord is my 
shepherd, says the same truly gallant and heroic personage : 
therefore shall I lack nothing'.f How is it possible, he should 
suffer want, who has the All-sufficient fulness forhis supply ? 
So long as unerring Wisdom is capable of contriving the means, 
so long as uncontrollable power is able to execute them ; 
such a one cannot fail of being safe and happy, whether he 
continue amidst the vicissitudes of time, or depart into the 
unchangeable eternity. 

Here, let us stand a moment, and humbly contemplate this 
great God, together with ourselves, in a relative view. — If 
we reflect on the works of material Nature, their number in- 
comprehensible, and their extent immeasurable ; each of them 
apart, so admirably framed j the connections of the whole so 
exquisitely regulated ; and all derived from one and the same 
glorious agent : — If we recollect the far more noble accom- 
plishments of elegant taste, and discerning judgment ; of refin- 
ed affections, and exalted sentiments ; which are to be found 
among the several orders of intelligent existence; and all of 
them flowing, in rich emanations, from the one sole fountain 
of intellectual light : — If we farther consider this Author of 
material beauty, and moral excellency, as a guardian, a go- 
vernor, and benefactor to all his creatures ; supporting the 
whole system, and protecting each individual, by an ever- 
watchful Providence ; presiding over the minutest affairs and 
causing all events to terminate in the most extensive good; 
heaping, with unremitted liberality, his benefits upon every 
capable object, and making the circuit of the universe a semi- 
nary of happiness : Is it possible for the human heart, under 
such captivating views, to be indifferent towards this most 
benign, most bountiful original of being and of bliss ! Can any 
be so immersed in stupidity, as to say unto the Almighty, — 
in the language of an irreligious temper, and licentious life, to 
say, «« Depart from us ; we implor* not thy favour ; nor desire 

* Psal. xxviL 1, t Psal. i 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 271 

"the knowledge of thy ways :" — Wonder, O Heavens! be 
amazed, O Earth ! and let the inhabitants of both express then- 
astonishment, at tliis unparalleled complication of disingenu- 
ous, ungrateful, destructive perverseness. -• 

If we consider our fallen and imperfect state ; frail in our 
bodies, enfeebled in our minds, in every part of our constitu- 
tion, and in all the occurrences of life, " like a tottering wall, 
" or a broken hedge." — If we survey our indigent and infirm 
state, without holiness, without spiritual strength ; our pos- 
session of present inconveniences entirely dependent on God's 
sovereign pleasure ; yea, forfeited, justly forfeited, with every 
future hope, by a thousand aggravated iniquities.— If we add 
the various disasters of our condition ; agitated as we are by- 
tumultuous passions ; oppressed with dispiriting' fears ; held 
in suspense by a variety of perplexing * cares y liable to pains, 
and exposed to troubles ; troubles from every quarter ; troubles 
of every kind .-—Can we, amidst so many wants, under such 
deplorable infirmities, and subject to such disastrous accidents, 
— can we be unconcerned, whether God's omnipotent, irresis- 
tible, all-conducting hand be against us, or for us ? Imagina- 
tion itself shudders at the thought! — Can we rest satisfied, 
without a well-grounded persuasion, that we are reconciled to 
this supreme Lord, and the objects of his unchangeable good- 
ness ! — If there be an abandoned wretch, whose apprehensi- 
ons are so fatally blinded ? who is so utterly lost to all sense 
of his duty, and of his interest let me bewail his misery, while 
I abhor his impiety: Bewail his misery, though popularity, 
with her choicest laurels, adorn his brow ; though affluence, 
with her richest delicacies, load his table ; though half a na- 
tion, or half a world, conspire to call him happy. 

May I, by a believing application, solace myself in this 
everlasting source of love, perfection, and joy! Grant me this 

* Perplexing.— Those who read the original language of the New Testa- 
ment, are sufficiently apprized, that such is the signincancy of that bene- 
volent dissuasive urged by our I<ord, Matth. vi. 25.— I beg leave, for the 
sake of the unlearned reader, to observe, that our translation, though for 
the most part faithful and excellent, has here misrepresented our Divine 
Master's meaning. Take no thought for your food, for your raiment, for 
your bodily welfare,ls not only not the true sense, but the very reverse of 
this scriptural doctrine. ^ We are required to take a prudent and moderate 
thought for the necessaries of life. The sluggard who neglects this decent 
precaution, is severely reprimanded ; is sent to one of the meanest animals, 
to blush for his folly, and learn discretion from her conduct, Prov. vi 6. Our 
Saviour's precept, and the exact sense of his expression, is, Take no anxious 
thought; indulge ho perplexing care; no such care as may argue an unrea> 
sonable distrust of providence, or may rend anil tear your minds with dis- 
tressing, and pernicious solicitude. 



CONTEMPLATIONS 

request, and I ask no more.— Only, that I may expect, nol 
with a reluctant anxiety, but with a ready cheerfulness, the ar- 
rival ol that important hour, when this veil of flesh shall drop, 
and the shadows ol' mortality flee away : When I shall no lon- 
ger complain of obscure knowledge, "languid affections, and 
imperfect fruition ; — but shall see the uncreated and immortal 
Majesty ; see him, not in this distant and unati'ecting method 
of reasoning iromjbus works ; but with the most clear and di- 
rect intuition of the mind s— When I shall love him, not with 
a cold and contracted spirit ; but with the most lively and en- 
larged emotions of gratitude :— -When I shall incessantfy enjoy 
the light of his countenance ; and be united, inseparably united, 
to his all-giorious Godhead. — Take, ye ambitious, unenvied 
and unopposed, take to yourselves the toys of state. May 1 be 
enabled to rejoice in this blessed hope ; and to triumph in that 
amiable, that adorable, that delightful name, the Lord my 
God ! and I shall scarce bestow a thought on the splendid 
pageantry of the world, unless it be to despise its empty pomp, 
and to pity its deluded admirers. 

All these bodies, though immense in their size, and 
almost infinite in their multitude, are obedient to the 
Divine command. The God of wisdom " telleth their num- 
bers," and is intimately acquainted with their various pro- 
perties. The God of power " calteth them all by their names," 
and assigns them whatsoever office he pleases. He marshals 
all the starry legions, with infinitely greater ease, and nicer 
order, than the most ex; tit General arranges his disciplined 
troops. He appoints their posts ; he marks their route ; he 
fixes the time for the if return. The posts which he appoints, 
they occupy without fail In the route which he settles, they 
persevere without the least deviation. And to the instant,* 
which he fixes for their return, they are precisely punctual.-— 
He has given them a law, which, through a long revolution of 
ages, shall not be broken, unless his sovereign will interposes 
for its repeal. Then indeed, the motion of the celestial orbs 
is controlled, their action remains suspended; or their influ- 
ence receives anew direction. — The sun, at his creation, issu- 
ed forth with a command,, to travel perpetually through the 

* " The planets, and all the innumerable host of heavenly bodies, per- 
u form their courses and revolutions with so much certainty and exactness, 
" as never once to fail ; but. for almost 6000 years,, come constantly about 
' 'to the same period, in the hundredth part of a minute. V 

Sackfioute's JIM. $ible. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 27$ 

Heavens. Since which, he has never neglected to perform 
the great circuit ; " rejoicing- as a giant to run his race." But, 
when it is requisite to accomplish the purposes of Divine love, 
the orders are countermanded ; the flaming courier remits his 
career ; stands still in Gibeon ;j and, for the conveniency of 
the chosen people, holds back the falling day. — -The moon 
was dispatched with a charge, never to intermit her revolving 
course, till day and night come to an end. But when the chil- 
dren of Providence are to be favoured with an uncommon 
continuance of light, she halts in her march, makes a solemn 
pause in the -valley of Ajalon,? and delays to bring on her at- 
tendant train of shadows — When the enemies of the Lord 
are to be discomfited, the stars are levied into the service ; 
the stars are armed, and take the field ; the stars, in their 
courses fought against Sisera.* 

So dutiful is material Nature ! so obsequious, in all her 
forms, to her Creator's pleasure ! — The bellowing thunders 
listen to his voice, and the vollied lightnings observe the di- 
rection of his eye. The flying storm, and impetuous whirl- 
wind, wear his yoke. The raging waves revere bis nod ; they 
shake the earth ; they dash the skies ; yet never offer to pass 
the limits which he has prescribed. — Even the planetary 
spheres, though vastly larger than this wide-extended earth, 
are in his hand, as clay in the hands of a potter. Though- 
swifter than the Northern blast, they sweep the long tracts of 
aether.; yet are- they guided by his reins, and execute what- 
ever he injoins.— All those enormous globes of central fire, 

1" This is spoken in conformity to the scripture language, and according 
to the common notion. With respect to the power which effected the al- 
teration, it is much the same thing, and alike miraculous, whether the sun, 
or the earth, he supposed to move. 

X Josh. x. 12. IS.— The Prophet Habakkuk, according to his lofty man- 
ner, celebrates this event ; and point; out, in very poetical diction, the de- 
sign of so surprising: a miracle.— The sun and moon stood still in their ha- 
bitation: In the light., the long-continued ami miraculous light, thv arrows, 
edged with destruction, walked on their rv.'fui trrand ; in the clear shuuna- 
of the day, protracted for tins very purpose, thv glittering spc:n\ launched 
by thy people, but guided by thy "hand, sprung to its pre. . Hab. iii. 11. 

* Judg. v. 20.— The scriptural phrase fought against, will, I hope, be a 
proper warrant for every expression I have used on this occasion.— The 
passage is generally supposed to s : gnrry, that some very dreadful meteors 
(which the stars were thought to influence) such as fierce flashes of light- 
ning, impetuous showers of rain, and rapid storms of hail, were employed 
by the Almigfcty. to terrify, annoy, and overthrow the enemies of Israel I 



274 CONTEMPLATIONS 

■which beam through' the boundless azure, in comparison of 
which an army of planets were like a swarm of Summer-in- 
sects ; those, even those, are conformable to his will, as the 
melting 1 wax to the impressed seal. — Since all, All is obedi- 
ent, throughout the whole ascent of things, shall man be the 
only rebel against the Almighty Maker ? Shall these unruly ap- 
petites reject his government, and refuse their allegiance ? 
Shall these headstrong passions break loose from Divine re- 
tra'mt, and run wild, in exorbitant sallies, after their own 
imaginations ? 

O my soul, be stung with remorse, and overwhelmed with 
confusion, at the thought! Is it noi a righteous thing, that 
the blessed God should sway the sceptre, with the most ab- 
solute authority, over all the creatures which his power has 
formed-? especially over those creatures, whom his distinguish- 
ing favour has endued with the noble principle of reason, and 
made capable of a blissful immortality ? Sure, if all the ranks 
of inanimate existence conform to their Maker's decree, by 
the necessity of their nature ; this more excellent race of be- 
ings should pay their equal homage, by the willing compli- 
ance of their affections.* — Come then, all ye faculties of my 
mind ; come, all ye powers of my body ; give up yourselves, 
without a moment's delay, without the least reserve, to his go- 
vernance. Stand, like dutiful servants, at his footstool; in an 
everlasting readiness to do whatsoever he requires : to be 
whatsoever he appoints ; to further, with united efforts, the 
purposes of his glory in this earthly scene ; or else to separate, 
without reluctance, at his summons ; the one, to sleep in the 
silent dust ; the other, to advance his honour, in some remoter 
colony of his kingdom. — Thus may I join with all the works of 
the Lord in all places of his dominion, to recognize his univer- 
sal supremacy, and proclaim him Sovereign ct souls, as well 
as Ruler of worlds. 



so. there cannot be a more clear and lively paraphrase on the text, than 
those fine lines of a Jewish writer. His severe wr th shall he sharpen for 
a sword; an-1 th." world shall fight with him against the ungfcdly. '1 hen 
shall tlie ri r'lt-'i- :i is: thunder-bolts go abroad; and from the clouds, as 
from a well-drew f -ow, shall they ■'>■ to the mark And hailstones Full of 
wrath, shall be n .' oat of a stone how ; and the water of the sea shall rage 
against them : and the floods (as was the case of the river Ki.hon) shall cru- 
elly drown them; yea, a mighty =vind shall stand up against them; and, 
torn, shall blow them away. Wisd. v. 20, 21, 22, 23. 

* 
* This argument,! acknowledge, is not absolutely conclusive. But it is 
.king. Nor can I think myself obliged, in such a work: 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. £75 

At my first coming abroad, all these luminaries were eclip- 
sed, by ihe overpowering- lustre of the sun. They were all pla- 
ced in the. very same stations, and played the same sprightly 
beams ; yet not one of them was seen. As the day-irgtit 
wore away, and the sober shades advanced, Hesperus, who 
leads the starry train, disclosed his radiant forehead, and catch - 
ed my eye. While I stood gazing on his bright and beauti- 
ful aspect, several of his attendants peeped through the blue 
curtains. . Scarce had 1 turned to observe these fresh eraana- 
ations of splendor, but others dropt the veil, others stole into 
view. When lo ! faster and more numerous, multitudes sprung 
from obscurity; they poured in shining troops, and in sweet 
confusion, over all the empyrean plain; till the firmament 
seemed like one vast constellation ; and " a flood of glory 
burst from all the skies." 

Is not such the rise, and such the progress of a true con- 
version, in the prejudiced infidel, or inattentive sinner ? Du- 
ring the period of his vainer years, a thousand interesting 
truths lay utterly undiscovered; a thousand momentous con- 
cerns were entirely disregarded. But when Divine grace dis- 
sipates the delusive glitter, which dazzled his understanding, 
and beguiled his affections ; then he begins to discern, dimly 
to discern, the things which belong" unto his peace. Some ad- 
monition of scripture darts conviction into his soul, as the 
glimmering of a star pierces the gloom of night.. — Then, per- 
haps, another awful, Or cheering- text impresses terror, or 
diffuses comfort. A threatening alarms his fears, or a pro- 
mise awakens his hopes. This possibly is succeeded by some 
afflictive dispensation of Providence, and improved by some 
edifying- and instructive conversation. All which is establish- 
ed as to its continuance, and enlarged as to its influence, by a 
diligent study of the sacred word. — By this means, new truths 

where fancy bears a considerable sway, to proceed always with the caution 
nrid exactness of a disj>uter in the schools. If there be some appearance of an- 
alogy between the fact and the inference, it seems sufficient for my pur- 
pose; though the deduction should not be necessary, nor the process strict- 
ly syllogistical.— One of the apostolic fathers has an affecting, and sublime 
paragraph, which runs entirely in this form : The sun, the moon, and the 
starry choir, without the least deviation, and with the utmost harmony, per- 
ibnn the revolutions appointed them by the Supreme decree. From which 
remark, and abundance of other similar instances, observable in the cecon- 
omy of Nature ; he exhorts Christians, to a cordial unanimity among them- 
selves, and a dutiful obedience tc Gcd. Vid. Clem. Roman. 1 ep. ad Corinth. 
«.ect. 20.— See also a beautiful ode in Dr. Watt's Lyric Poems, entitled, The 
Comparison and Co^.otauit, which turns upon this rery thought. 



276 CONTEMPLATIONS 

continually pour their evidence. Scenes of* refined and exalt- 
ed, but hitherto unknown delight, address him with their at- 
tractives. New desires take wing- ; new pursuits are set on 
foot. A new turn of mind forms his temper ; a new habit of 
conversation regulates his life. In a word, old things are pas- 
sed away, and all things become new. He who was some- 
time darkness, is now light, and life, and joy in the Lord. 

The more attentively I view the crystal concave, the more 
fully I discern the richness of its decorations. -Abundance of 
minuter lights, which lay concealed from a superficial notice, 
are visible on a closer examination. Especially in those tracts 
of the sky, which are called the galaxy; and are distinguish- 
able by a sort of milky path. There the stars are crouded, ra- 
ther than disseminated. The region seems to be all on a 
blaze, with their splendid rays. — Besides this vast profusion, 
which in my present situation the eye discovers ; was I to make 
my survey, from any other part of the globe, lying nearer the 
Southern pole, I should behold a new choir of starry bodies, 
which have never appeared within our horizon.— Was I (which 
is still more wonderful) either here or there, to view the 
firmament with the virtuoso's glass ; I should find a prodi- 
gious multitude of flaming orbs, which immersed in depths of 
xther, escape the keenest unassisted sight.* — Yet, in these 
various situations, even with the aid of the telescopic tube, I 
should not be able to descry the half, perhaps not a thou- 
sandth part, of those majestic luminaries, which the vast ex- 
pansive Heavens contain.^ — So, the more diligently 1 pursue 
my search into those oracles of eternal truth, the scriptures ; 
I perceive a wider, a deeper, an ever-increasing fund of spi- 
ritual treasures* I perceive the brighter strokes of wisdom, 
and the richer displays of goodness ; a more transcendant ex- 
cellency in the illustrious Messiah, and a more deplorable vile- 

* Come forth, O man, ym> azure round survey. 
And view thoso lamps, which yield eternal day. 
Bring forth thy glasses : Clear thy wond'ring eyes: 
Millions beyond the former millions rise : 
Look farther ;— millions more blaze from remoter skies. 

See an ingenious poem, entitled, The Universe. 

t How noble, considered, in this view, are the celebrations of the 
Divine Majesty, which frequently occur in the sacred writings! It 

is the Lord that made the Heavens. Psalms xcvi. 5. What a 

prodigious dignity does such a sense of things give to that devout 
asc ription of praise ! Thou, even thou, art Lord alone ; thou hast made 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 

:n fallen man ; a more immaculate purity in God's law 3 
and more precious privileges in his gospel. Yet, after a course 
of study, ever so assiduous, ever so prolonged, I should have 
reason to own myself a mere babe in heavenly knowled^ ; 
or, at most but a puerile proficient in the school of Christ. 

After all my most accurate inspection, those starry orbs 
appear but as "glittering points. Even the planets, though so 
much nearer our earthly mansion, seem only like burning bul- 
lets. If then we have such imperfect apprehensions of visible 
and material things ; how much more scanty and inadequate 
must be our notions of invisible and immortal objects ! — We 
behold the stars. Though every one is incomparably bigger 
than the globe we inhabit, yet they dwindle, upon oursurvey, 
into the most diminutive forms. Thus, we see by faith the 
glories of the blessed Jesus ; the atoning efficacy of his death ; 
the justifying merit of his righteousness ; and the joys which 
are reserved for his followers. But alas ! even our most ex- 
alted ideas are vastly below the truth; as much below the truth 
as the report which our eyes make of those celestial edifices, 
is inferior to their real grandeur. — Should we take in all the 
magnifying assistances which art has contrived; those lumi- 
ous bodies would elude our skill, and appear as small as ever. 
Should an inhabitant of earth travel towards the cope of Hea- 
ven ; and be carried forwards, in his aerial journey, more than 
a hundred and sixty millions of miles ; * even in that advanced 
situation, those oceans of Hame would look no larger than ra- 
diant specks. — In like manner, conceive ever so magnificently 
of the Redeemer's honours, and of the bliss which he has pur- 
chased for his people; yet you will fall short. Raise your 
imagination higher; stretch your invention wider; give them, 
all the scope which a soaring and excursive fancy can take ; 
still your conceptions will be extremely disproportionate to 
their genuine perfections. Vast are the bodies which roll in 
the expanse of Heaven ; vaster far are those fields of sether, 
through which they run their endless round : but the excel- 

Heaven, the Heaven of heavens, with all their host. Nehem. ix. 6.— Ex- 
amined by thi3 rule, the beautifid climax in our inspired hymn, is sublime 
beyond compare. Praise him, sun and moon : Praise him,' all ye stars of 
light : Praise him, ye Heaven of Heavens, cxlviii. 3, 4. 

* This, incredible as it may seem, is not a mere supposition, but a real 
fact. For, about the twenty-first of December, we are above 160,000,000 
of miles nearer the Northern parts of the sky, than we were at the twen- 
ty-first of June. And yet, with regard to the stars situated in that quarter, 
we perceive no change in their aspect, nor any augmentaion of t,Vs" 
magnitude. 

Aa 



278 CONTEMPLATIONS 

lency of Jesus, and the happiness laid up for his servants, are 
greater than either, than both, than all. An inspired writer 
culh the former, "the unsearchable riches of Christ;'* and 
sty$-s the latter, "an exceeding great and eternal weight of 
glory." 

If those stars are so many inexhaustible magazines of fire, 
and immense reservoirs of light ; there is no reason to doubt, 
but they have some very grand uses, suitable to the magnifi- 
cence of their nature. To specify or explain the particular 
purposes they answer, is altogether impossible, in our present 
state of distance and ignorance. This, however* we may clear- 
ly discern; they are disposed in that very manner which is 
most pleasing and most serviceable to mankind. — They are 
not placed at an infinite remove, so as to lie beyond our sight ; 
neither are they brought so near our abodes, as to annoy us 
with their beams. We see them shine on every side. The 
deep azure, which serves them as a ground, heightens their 
splendor. At the same time, their influence is gentle, and 
their rays are destitute of heat. So that we are surrounded 
with a multitude of fiery globes, which beautify and illuminate 
the firmament, without any risk, either to the coolness of our 
night, or the quiet of our repose. — Who can sufficiently admire 
that wondrous benignity, which, on our account, strews the 
earth with blessings of ever} 7 kind, and vouchsafes to make 
the very heavens subservient to our delight ! 

It is not solely to adorn the roof of our palace with costly 
gildings, that God commands the celestial luminaries to glitter 
through the gloom. We also reap considerable benefits from 
their ministry. — They divide our time, and fix its solemn pe- 
riods. They settle the order of our works ; and are, accord- 
ing to the destination mentioned in sacred writ, " for signs, 
" and for seasons ; for days, and for years." The returns of 
heat and cold alone, would have been too precarious a rule. 
But these radiant bodies, by the variation, and also by the 
regularity, of their motions, afford a method of calculating, ab- 
solutely certain, and sufficiently obvious. By this, the farmer 
is instructed when to commit his grain to the furrows, and how 
to conduct the operations of husbandry. By this, the sailor 
knows wfter. to proceed on his voyage with least peril, and 
how to carry on the business of navigation with most success. 

Why should not the Christian, the probationer for eternity, 
learn from the same monitors, to number — for noftfer purpo- 
ses, to number his days ; and duly to transact the grand, grand 
affairs of his everlasting salvation ? Since God has appointed 
so many bright measures of our time, to determine its larger 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 279 

is, and tc minute down its ordinary stages ; sure this 
most stronglv inculcates its value, and should powerfully 
prompt us to improve it.— Behold ! the supreme Lord marks 
the progress of our life, in that most conspicuous kalendar a- 
bove. Does not such an ordination tell us, and in the mostem- 
phatical language, that our life is given for use, net for waste ? 
That no portion of it is delivered, but under a strict account ; 
that all of it is entered as it passes, in the Divine register ; and, 
therefore, that the stewards of such a talent are to expect a 
future reckoning ? Beho.d ! the \evy heavens are bidden to be 
the accountants of our years, and months, and days. O ! may 
this induce us to manage them with a vigilant iraugality ; to 
part with them, as misers with their hoarded treasures, wari- 
ly and circumspectly ; and, if possible, as merchants with their 
rich commodities, not without an equivalent, either in per- 
sonal improvement, or social usefulness ! 

How bright the starry diamonds shine ! The ambition of 
Eastern Monarchs could" imagine no distinction more noble 
and sublime, than that of being likened to those beaming orbs.* 
They form Night's richest dress ; and sparkle upon her sable 
robe, like jewels of the finest lustre. Like jewels ! I wrong 
their character. The lucid stone has no brilliancy ; quenched 
is the flame even of the golden topaz ; compared with those 
glowing decorations of Heaven. How widely are their radi- 
ant honours diffused! No nation so remote, but sees their 
beauty, and rejoices in their usefulness. They have been 
admired by all preceding generations; and every rising age 
Will gaze on their charms, with renewed delight. How ani- 
mating, then, is that promise made to the faithful ministers 
of the gospel ; " They that turn many to righteousness, shall 
shine as the stars for ever and ever "f Is not this a most 
winning encouragement, " to spend and be spent^ in the ser- 
vice of souls? Methinks, the stars beckon, as they twinkle. 
Me thinks, they shew me their splendors on purpose to inspire 
me with alacrity, if|j*he race set before me : on purpose to 
enliven my activity, m the work that is given me to do. — Yes ; 
ye majestic monitors, I understand your meaning. If honour 
has any charms ; if true glory, the glory which cometh from. 
God, is any attractive ; you display the most powerful incite- 
ments to exercise all assiduity in my holy vocation. I will hence - 
forth, observe your intimation ; and, when zeal becomes Ian 
guid, have recourse to your heavenly lamps ; if so be I may 
rekindle its ardour at these inextinguishable fires. 

» IS'itrab, >:jdv. 17 Daa. yu:. 19. t Dan. xiL S„ 



*30 CONTEMPLATIONS 

Of the polar star, it is observable, that, while other lumi- 
naries alter their situation, tins seems invariably fixed.* While 
other luminaries, now, mount the battlements of Heaven, and 
appear upon duty ; now, retire beneath the horizon, and re- 
sign to afresh set the watches of the night ; this never departs 
from its station. This, in every season, maintains an uniform 
position ; and is always to be found in the same tract of the 
Northern sky. — How often has this beamed bright intelligence 
on the sailor; and conducted the keel to its desired haven! 
In early ages, those who went down to the sea in ships, and 
occupied their business in great waters, had scarce any ether 
sure guide for their wandering vessel. This therefore they 
viewed with the most solicitous attention. By this they form- 
ed their observations, and regulated their voyage. When this 
was obscured by clouds, or enveloped in mists, the trembling 
mariner was bewildered on the watery waste. His thoughts 
fluctuated, , s much as the floating surge ; and he knew not 
where he was advanced, or whither he should steer. But, 
when this auspicious star broke through the gloom, it dissi- 
pated the anxiety of his mind, and cleared up 4. is dubious 
passage. Here-assumed, with alacrity, the management of 
the helm ; and was able to shape his course with some tolera- 
ble degree of satisfaction and certainty. 

Such, only much clearer in its light, and much surer in its 
direction, is the holy word of God, to those myriads of intel- 
lectual beings, who are bound for the eternal shores ; who, 
embarked in a vessel of feeble flesh, are to pass the waves of 
this tempestuous and perilous world. In all difficulties, ;hose 
sacred pages shed an encouraging ray ; in all uncertainties, 
they suggest the right determination and point out the proper 
procedure. What is still a more inestimable advantage, they, 
like the star which conducted the Eastern Sages, make plaia 
the way of access to a Redeemer. They display his unspeak- 
able merits ; they discover the method of being interested in 
his great atonement; and lead the weary soul, tossed by trou- 
bles, and shattered by temptations, to that harbour of peace- 
ful repose. — Let us, therefore, attend to this unerring direc- 
tory, with the same constancy of regard, as the sea-faring 
man observes his compass. Let us become as thoroughly ac- 
quainted with this sacred chart, as the pilot is with every trus- 
ty mark, that gives notice of a lurking rock ; and with every 

* I speak in conformity to the appearance of the object. Fov though 
this remarkable star revolves round the pole, its motion is so slow, and the 
circle it describes, so small, as render both the revolution, ani caange oV 
situation, hardly perceivable. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 281 

open road, that yields a safe passage into the port Above all, 
let us commit ourselves to tins infallible guidance, with the 
same implicit resignation ; let us conform our conduct to its 
exalted precepts, with the same sedulous care, as the children 
of Israe , when sojourning in the trackles desert, followed 
the pillar of fire, and the motions of the miraculous cloud. — 
So will it introduce us, not into an earthly Canaan, flowing 
with milk and honey ; but into an immortal paradise, where 
is the fulness of joy, and where are pleasures for evermore. It 
will introduce us into those happy regions, where our sun shall 
no more go down, nor our moon withdraw itself ; for the Lord 
shall be cur everlasting light ; and the day of our mourning, 
together with the fatigues of our pilgrimage shal be ended.* 

I perceive a great variety in the size and splendor of those 
gems of Heaven. Some are of the first magnitude : others of 
an inferior order. Some glow with intense flumes ; others glim- 
mer with fainter beams. Yet all are beautiful; all have their 
peculiar lustre, and distinct use ; all tend, in their different 
degrees, to enamel the cope of Heaveu, and embroider the 
robe of Night — This circumstance is remarked by an author, 
■whose sentments are a source of wisdom, and the very stand- 
ard of truth. " One star," says the Apostle to the Gentiles, 
'* differeth from another star in glory : so also is the resurec- 
fcion of the dead." 

In the world above, are various, degrees of happiness, vari- 
ous seats of honour. Some will rise to more illustrious dis- 
tinctions, and richer joys. + Some, like vessels of ample capa- 
city, will admit more copious accessions of light and excel- 
lence. Yet there will be no want, no deficiency, in any : but 
a fulness, both of Divine satisfactions, and personal perfec- 
tions. Each will enjoy all the good, and be adorned with all 
the glory, that his heart can wish, or his condition receive.— 
None will know what it is to envy. No the least malevolence, 
nor the least selfishness, but everias ng friendship prevails, 
and a mutual complacency in each other's delight. Love, 
cordial love, will give every particular saint a participation of 
all the frqitions,+ which are diffused through the whole as- 
sembly of the blessed. — No one eclipses, but each reflects 

* Isa. Ix. 20. 

+ 1 Cor. >:v. 41.42. The gfreat 3fr. Mede prefers the sense here a^iven ; 

and the 'earn. ;: Dr. Hrvnnionrl ?,d its it into his paraphrase : whose joint 

authority, t: oogli far fiwn excluding any other, yet is a sufficient war* 

rant fo .- words. 

t Tolle invidiam, tt tuura est quodhabeo. Tolle invidiam, et menm est 
quod habes. Aus'uiinc. 

A a 2 



282 CONTEMPLATIONS 

light upon his brother. A sweet interchange of rays subsists ; 
all enlightened by the great Fountain, and all enlightening 
one- another. By which reciprocal communication of plea- 
sure and amity, each will be continually receiving from, each 
incessantly adding to, the general felicity. 

Happy, supremely happy they, who are admitted into the 
celestial mansions. Better to be a doorkeeper in those " ivo- 
ry palaces,"* tiian to fill the most gorgeous throne on earth. 
The very lowest place at God's right hand, is distinguished 
honour, and consummate bliss. — O ! that we may, in some 
measure, anticipate that beatific state, while we remain in our 
banishment below ! May we, by rejoicing in the superior pros- 
perity of another, make it our own ; and, provided the gene- 
ral result is harmony, be content, be pleased with whatsoever 
paruis assigned to our share, in the universal choir of affairs. 

While I am considering the heavenly bodies, 1 must not 
entirely forget those fundamental laws of our modern astrono- 
my, projection, and attraction. One of which is the all-com- 
bining cement, the other is the ever-operating spring, of the 
mghty frame. — In the beginning, the all-creating Fiat impres- 
sed a proper degree of motion on each of those whirling orbs. 
Which, if not controlled, would have carried them on, in 
straight lines, and to endless lengths ; till they were even lost 
in the abyss of space. But the gravitating property being add- 
ed to the projectile force, determined their courses to a circu- 
iarj- form ; and obliged the reluctant rovers to perform their 
destined rounds. — Were either of those causes to suspend 
their action, all the harmoniously-moving spheres would be 
disconcerted; would degenerate into sluggish inactjve mas- 
ses ; and, falling into the central lire, be burnt to ashes ; or 



■f I am aware, the planetary orbits are not strictly circular, but ratlnr el- 
liptical. However, as they are bur a smul) remove from the perfect 
figure, and partake of it incomparably move (han th». trajectories o< the co- 
mets, 1 choose to represent the tiring' in this view. Especially, because the 
ootioi! of a circle is so much more mtellurible to the generality of readers, 
than that of an ellipsis; and because I laid it down 'or a rule, not to admit 
any such abstruse sentiment, or difficult expression, as should demand a 

faiuful attention, instead of raising an agreeable idea. For m hich 
have avoided technical terms ; have taken no node of JnpiurN si 
or Saturn's ring; have not so much as mentioned the nan.es of Use planets, 
nor attempted to wade into any depths of the science ; lest, to those who 
have uo opportunity of using the telescope, or of acquainting tl 
with a svsteni of astronomy, I should propound riddles, nil 
entertaining a° d edifying truths. 



ON THE STARRY- HEAVENS. 2fc3 

else would exorbitate into wild confusion : and each, by the 
rapidity of its whirl, be^dissipated into atoms, but the im- 
pulsive and atcractive energy being most nicely attempered to 
each other: and, under the immediate operation ot" tiie Al- 
mighty, eserting themselves in perpetual concert ; the various 
globes run their radiant races, without the least interruption, 
or the least deviation ; so as to create the alternate changes 
of day and night, and distribute the useful vicissitudes oi'suc- 
ceeding seasons ; so as to answer all the great ends of a gra- 
cious Providence, and procure every comfortable convenience 
for universal Nature. 

Does not this constitution of the material, very naturally 
lead the thoughts to those grand principles of the moral and. 
devotional world, faith and love ?— -These are often celebrated 
by the inspired apostle, as a comprehensive summary of the 
gospel.* These inspirit the breast, and regulate the progress, 
of each private Christian. These unite the whole congrega- 
tion of the faithful to God, and one another ; to God, the 
great centre, in the bonds of gratitude and devotion : to one 
another, by a reciprocal intercourse of brotherly affections, 
and friendly offices. — If you ask, Why is it impossible for the 
true believer to live at all adventures ? to stagnate in sloth, or 
habitually to deviate from duty ? — We. answer, it is owing to 
•'his faith, working by love f" He assuredly trusts thatdirist 
has sustained the infamy, and endured the torment, due to his 
sins. He firmly relies on that Divine propitiation, for the par- 
don of all his guile ; and humbly expects everlasting salvation, 
as the purchase of his Saviour's merits. r J his produces such 
a spirit of gratitude, as refines his inclinations, and animates, 
his whole behaviour. He cannot, he cannot run to excess of 
riot; because love to his adorable Redeemer, like a strong, but 
silken curb, sweetly restrains him. He cannot, he cannot lie 
lulled in a lethargic indulenee ; because love to the same in- 
finite Benefactor, like a pungent, but endearing' spur, pleasing- 
ly excites him. — In a word, faith supplies the powerful impulse, 
while love gives the determining bias ; and ieads the willing 
feet through the whole circle of God's commandments; By 
the united efficacy of these heavenly graces, the Christian con- 
duct is preserved, in the uniformity and beauty of holiness ; 
as, hy the blended power of those Newtonian principles, the 
solar system revolves, in a steady and magnificent regularity. 

How admirable, how extensive, how diversified, is the force 

* Col. i. 4. Philcra. ver, 5. t Gal, v. & 



234 CONTEMPLATIONS 

of this single principle, attraction !* — This penetrates the very 
essence ot all bodies, and difluses itself to the remotest li- 
mns o: the mundane system. — By this, the worlds, impressed 
Willi motion, hang self-balanced on their centres ;|and, though 
oibs of immense magnitude, require nothing but this amaz- 
ing property for their support.— To this we ascribe a pheno- 
menon, of a very different kind, the pressure of the atmos- 
phere ; which, though a } ieiding and expansive fluid, yet, con- 
stipated by an attractive energy, surrounds the whole globe, 
and incloses every creature, as it were, with a tight bandage. 
An expedient this, absolutely necessary to preserve the tex- 
ture of our bodies; and indeed, to maintain every species of 
animal existence. — Attraction ! Urged by this wonderful im- 
petus, the rivers circulate, copious and unintermitted, among 
all the nations of the earth ; sweeping with rapidity down the 
steeps, or softly ebbing through the plains. Impelled by the 
same mysterious force, the nutritious juices are detached from 
the soil ; and, ascending the trees, find their way through mil- 
lions of the finest meanders, in order to transfuse vegetative 
life into the branches — This confines the ocean within proper 
bounds. Though the waves thereof roar; though they toss 
themselves with all the madness of indignant rage ; yet check- 
ed by this potent, this inevitable curb, they are unable to 
pass even the slight barrier of sand, i o this the mountains 
owe that unshaken firmness, which laughs at the shock of 
careering winds; and bids the tempest, with all its mingled 
horrors, impotently rave— By virtue of thin invisible mechan- 
ism, without the aid of crane or pulley, or any instrument of 
human device, many thousand tons of water are raised, every 
moment, into the regions of the firmament. By this, they 
continue suspended in thin air, without any capacious cistern 
to contain their substance, or .any massy pillars to sustain their 
weight. By this same variously-acting power, they return to 
the place of their native residence ; distilled in gentle fulls of 
dew, or precipitated in impetuous showers of rain. Ther 
slide into the fields in fleecy flights of snow, or are darted 
upon the houses in clattering storms of hail. — This occasions 
the strong cohesion of solid bodies ; without which, our large 
machines could exert themselves with no vigour; and the ni- 
cer utensils, of life would elude our expectations of service. 
This affords a foundation for all those delicate or noble me- 
chanic arts, which furnish mankind with numberless conve- 

* I mean, the attraction both of gravitation and cohesion. 
t Ponderibu* librata sui.*.— Gvi'J. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 285 

es, both of ornament and delight.-— In short, this is the 
prodigious ballast, which composes the equilibrium, and con- 
stitutes the stability of things ; this the great chain, which 
forms the connections of universal Nature ; and the mighty: 
engine, which prompts, facilitates, and, in good measure, ac- 
complishes almost all her operations.— What complicated ef- 
fects from a single cause !* What profusion amidst frugality ! 
An unknown profusion of benefits, with the utmost frugali- 
ty of expense ! 

And what is this attraction ? Is it a quality, in its existence, 
inseparable from matter ; and, in its acting, independent on 
the Deity !■— Quite the reverse. It is the very finger of God ; 
the constant impression of Divine power; a principle, neither 
innate in matter, nor intelligible by mortals, — Does it not, 
however, bear a considerable analogy to the agency of the Ho- 
ly Ghost, in the Christian ceconomy ? Are not the gracious 
operations of the Blessed Spirit, thus extensive, thus admira- 
ble, thus various? — That Almighty Being transmits his gifts 
through every age, and communicates his graces to every ad- 
herent of the Redeemer. All, either of illustrious memory, 
or of beneficial tendency ; in a word, " all the good that is 
done upon earth, he doeth it himself." Strong in his aid, and 
in the power of his might, the saints of all times have trod 
vice under their feet ; have triumphed over this abject world ; 
and conversed in heaven, while they dwelt on earth. Not I, 
but the grace of God which was with me,f is the unanimous 3 
acknowledgment of them all. — By the same kindly succours, 
the whole church is still enlightened, quickened, and govern- 
ed. Through his benign influences, the scales of ignorance fall 
from the understanding ; the leprosy of evil concupiscence is 
purged from the will ; and the fetters, the more than adaman- 
tine fetter3 of habitual iniquity, drop off from the conversa- 
tion. He breathes even upon dry bones,* and they live : They 
are animated with faith ; they pant with ardent and heavenly 
desire ; they exercise themselves in alt the duties of godliness, 
-—His real, though secret, inspiration, dissolves the flint in the 

* See another resaarkable instance of this kind, in the Reflection* &a t, 
Flowei^Garden, vol. I. 

t 1 Cor. xv. 10. 

t See that beautiful piece of sacred and allegorical imagery dUoIayed, 
Ezek. xxxvii. 



286 CONTEMPLATIONS 

'impenitent breast, and binds up the sorrows of the broken 
heart; raises the thoughts high, in the elevations of holy 
hope ; yet lays them low, in the h miliations of inward abase- 
ment; steels the soai with impenetrable resolution, and pre- 
severing fortitude.; at the same time, softens it into a dove-like 
meekness, and melts it in penitential sorrow. 

When I contemplate those ample and magnificent struc- 
tures, erected over all the set he real plains : — When I look 
upon them, as so many splendid repositories of light, or fruitful 
abodes of life : — When I remember, that there may be other 
orbs, vastly more remote than those which appear to our un- 
aided sight; orbs, whose effulgence, though travelling ever 
since the creation, is not yet arrived upon our coasts:* — When 
i stretch my thoughts to the innumerable orders of being, 
which inhabit all those spacious systems ; from the loftiest 
seraph, to the lowest reptile ; from the armies of angels, which 
surround the throne of Jehovah, to the puny nations, which 
tinge with blue the surface of the plum,-}- or mantle the stand- 
ing pool with green: — How various appear the links in this 
immense chain ! how vast the gradations in this universal scale 
of existence ! Yet all these, though ever so vast and various, 
are the work of God's hand, and are full of his presence. 

* If this conjecture (which has no less a person than the celebrated Mr, 
Huygens for its author) concerning unseen stars, be true; — if, to this obser- 
vation, be added, what is affirmed by our skilful astronomers, thnt the mo- 
tion of the rays of light is so surprisingly swift, as to pass through ten mil- 
lions of miles in a single minute :— How vast ! beyond imagination vast and 
unmeasurable, are the spaces o the universe !— "while the mind is distend- 
ed with the grand idea ; or rather, while she is dispatching her ablest pow- 
crs of piercing judgment, and excursive fancy ; and finds them all drop 
short, all baffled by the amazing subject : Permit me to apply that spirited 
exclamation, and noble remark.— 



—Say, proud arch, 



Built with Divine ambition ; in disdain 

Of limit built; built in the taste of Heav'n ! 

Vast concave ! ample dome ! wast thou design'd 

A meet apartment for the Deity ? 

Not so : That thought alone thy state impairs * 

Thy lofty sinks ; and shallows thy profound ; 

And su-enghtens thy diffusive. Uight'Ttwughis t No. IX. 

t Ev*n the bhie down the purple plum surrounds, 
A living world, thy railing; sight confounds. 
To him a peopled habitation shows, 
Where millions taste the bounty, God bestows. 

&c a beautiful and instructive P«m styled Deity 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 237 

He rounded in his palm those dreadfully large globes, which' 
are pendulous in the vault of Heaven. He kindled those as- 
tonishingly bright fires, which fill the firmament with a flood 
of glory. By him they are suspended in fluid aether, and can- 
not be shaken :— By him they dispense a perpetual tide of 
beam3, and are never exhausted^ — He formed, with inexpres- 
sible nicety, that delicately fine collection of tubes; that un- 
known multiplicity of subtile springs, which organize and ac- 
tuate the frame of the minutest insect. He bids the crimson 
current roll ; the vital movements play ; and associates a 
world of wonders, even m an animated point *— In all these 
is a signal exhibition of creating power ; to all these are ex- 
tended the special regards of preserving goodness. From 
hence let me learn, to rely on the providence, and to revere 
the presence, of the Supreme Majesty. 

To rely on his Providence — For, amidst that inconceiva- 
ble number and variety of beings, which swarm through the 
regions of creation, not one is overlooked, not one is neglect- 
ed, by the great Omnipotent Cause of all. However inconsi- 
derable in its character, or diminutive . in -its size, it is still 
the production of 'the Universal Maker, and belongs to the 
family of the Almighty Father! — What? though enthroned 
archangels enjoy the smiles of his countenance ! yet the low 
inhabitants of the earth, the most despicable worms of the 
ground, are not excluded from his providential care. Though 
the manifestation of his p rfection's is vouchsafed to holy and 
intellectual essences; his ear is open totho cries of the young 
raven. His eye is attentive to the wants, and to the welfare, 
of the very meanest births of nature. — How much less, then, 
are his own people disregarded ? those, for whom he has deli- 

* There are living creatures abundantly smaller than the mite. Mr. Brad- 
ley, in hisTreatise on Oardening, mentions an insect, which, after accu- 
rate examination, he found to be a thousand times less than the least visible 
grain of sand, Yt-t such an bisect, though quite imperceptible to the na- 
ked eye. is an elephant, is a whale compared with other animalcules al- 
most infinitely move minute, discovered by Air. Lewenhoeck. — If we consi- 
der the several Hams which compose such an organized particle ; the differ- 
ent muscies which actuate such i set of limbs ; the flow of spirits, incom- 
parably more attentuatod, which put those muscles in motion ; the various 
fluids which circulate ; the diderent secretion? which arc performed ; toco 
ther with the peculiar minuteness of the solids, before they arrive at their 
full growth : not to mention other more astonishing modes of diminution : — 
Sure, we shall have the utmost reason to acknowledge, that the adored Ma 
iter i*— awxiaus La naicintw ; greatly gfarious, even in his smallest works, 



288 CONTEMPLATIONS 

vered his beloved Son to death, and for whom he has prepar- 
ed habitations of eternal joy. They disregarded ! No. They 
are " kept as the apple oi an eye." The very hairs of their 
head are all numbered, 'ihe fondest mother may forget 
her infant, that is dandled upon her knees," and sucks at her 
breast,* much sooner than the Father of everlasting- compas- 
sions can discontinue, or remit, his watchful tenderness to his 
people — his children — his heirs. 

Let this teach me also a more lively sense of the Divine pre- 
sence. — AH the rolling worlds above, all the living- atoms be- 
low, together with all the beings that intervene betwixt these 
wide extremes, are vouchers for an ever-present Deity. God 
" has not left himself without witness." The marks of his 
foostcps arc evident in every place, and the touches of his 
finger distinguishable in every creature. "Thy name is so 
" nigh, O thou all-supporting, all-informing Lord ! and that do 
" thy wondrous works declare.f Thy goodness warms in the 
l < morning-sun, and refreshes in the evening-breeze. Thy glo- 
'* ry shines in the lamps of midnight, and smiles in the hlos- 
(l soms of Spring. We see a trace of thy incomprehensible 

* Isa. xlix. 15. Can a woman forgtt her sucking child, that she should not 
have compassion en the son other womb? Yea, they may forget ; yet will 
I not forget tht-v.— How dc lie te and expressive are the images in this* ebarm- 
mpturt !— How full of beauty, if beheld in a critical, how rich with 
cot solution, if considered in a believing, view !— Can a woman I one of the 
softer sex : whose nature is mo3t impressible, and whose passionsare remark- 
ably tender ;— can such a one, not barely disregard, but enteirely forget ; 
not suspend her can for a while, but utterly erase the very memory— of 
her child : hi row n child, not another's ; a child thai was formed in her v'omb, 
and is a pan of herself ?— her son ; the more important, and therefore more 
desirable sp< cies : to whom it peculiarly belongs to preserve the name, and 
buiid up the family :— Her only son ; for the void is singular, and refers to 
a case, where thi otYspriug, not being numerous, but centred in a single 
birth, must be productive of the fondest endearment :— Can she divert her- 
sel; of.-ilJ eonci rn lor such a child ; not when he is grown up to maturity, 
or gone abroad from her house ; hut while he continues ir. an infantile 
suae, and must ov e his w hole safety to her kind attendance ; while he lit s 
J7i her bosom, rests on her arm, and even sucks at her breast :— Kspeci:dJt-, 
if the poor innocent be racked with p: in, or se i2ec! by some severe afl'i'e- 
ticn ; and so become an object of compassion, as well as of love. Can she 
hear its piercing cries ; can she see it all restless, all helpless, underits mise- 
ry ; and fl 1 1 no emotions of parental pity .'—If one such monster of inhu- 
manity might be found ; could alt mothers be so degenerate f Tins, sure, 
cunnot he suspi cttd, need not be feared. Much les. net d the true h< ;j. 
be aopreltei sue of the failure of my kindness. An universal extinction of 
those strongest sfftc-tions of Kniure, is a more stipposabh case. t!:an that I 
rbould ever be unmindful of my people, or regarilless cf il.e ir i,. i • 

t Fsal. Ixxv. J, 



ON THE STARRY.HEAVENS. 239 

•' grandeur in the boundless extent of things, and a sketch of 
i( thy exquisite skill in those almost evanescent sparks of life, 
•' the insect-race." — How stupid is this heart of mine, that, 
amidst such a multitude of remembrancers, thronging on eve- 
ry side, I should forget thee a single moment! Grant me, thou 
great I Am! thou Source and Support ot universal existence '. 
— O grant me an enlightened eye, to discern thee in every ob- 
ject ; and devout heart, to adore thee on even- occasion. In° 
stead of living without God in the world, may I be ever with 
him, and see all things lull ol him ! 

-The glitt'ring stars, 



By the deep ear of medilation heard, 

Still in their midnight- watches sing of him. 

He nods a calm. The tempest blows his wrathj 

The thunder is his-, voice : and the red flash 

His speedy sword of justice. At his touch 

The mountains flame. He shakes the solid earth, 

And rocks the nations. Nor in these alone, 

In ev , r\ common instance God. is seen. 

Thomson's Spring* 

If the beautiful spangles which a clear night pours on the 
beholder's eye ; if those other fires, yviiich beam in remoter 
skies, and are discoverable only by that revelation to the sight, 
the telescope ; if all those bright millions are so many foun- 
tains of day, enriched with native and independent lustre, il- 
luminating- planets, and enlivening systems of their own :* 
What pomp, how majestic and splendid, is disclosed in the 
rnidnight--cene ! What riches art disseminated through all 

those numberless provinces oftlnj great Jehovah's empire ! ■ 

Grandeur beyond expression! — Yet there is not the meanest 
slave, but carries greater wealth in his own bosom, possesses 
superior dignity in his own person The soul, that informs his 
clay .- — the soui. that teaches him to think, and enables him to 
choose; that qualifies him to relish rational pleasure, and to 
breathe sublime desire; j — the soul, that is endowed with such 



And worlds, to thee unknown. wxh heat and life stipples. 

The Universe, 
; lu tins respect, as vested v.ith such capacities, the soul even of follea 
B 8 



290 CONTEMPLATIONS 

noble faculties, and above all, is distinguished with the dread- 
ful, the glorious capacity, of being pained or blessed for ever; 
—•this soul surpasses in worth, whatever the eye can see; 
whatever of material the fancy can imagine. Before one such 
intellectual being, all the treasure and all the magnificence of 
unintelligent creation becomes poor and contemptible.* For 
this soul, Omnipotence itself has waked, and worked, through 
every age. ' To convince this soul, the fundamental laws of 
Nature have been controlled; and the most amazing miracles 
have alarmed all the ends of the earth. To instruct this soul, 
the wisdom of Heaven has been transfused into the sacred 
page ; and missionaries have been sent from the great King, 
who resides in light unapproachable. To sanctify this soul, 
the Almighty Comforter takes the wings of a dove ; and with 
a sweet transforming influence, broods on the human heart. 
And O ! to redeem this soul from guilt, to rescue it from hell, 
the Heaven of Heavens, was bowed, and God himself came 
down to dwell in dust. 

Let me pause a while upon this important subject. — What 
are the schemes which engage the attention of eminent states- 
men, and mighty monarchs, compared with the grand interests 
of an immortal soul ? The support of commerce, and the suc- 
cess of armies, though extremely weighty affairs ; yet, if laid 
in the balance against the salvation of a soul, are lighter than 
the downy feather, poised against talents of gold. To "save 
a navy from shipwreck, or a kingdom from slavery, are deliver- 
ances of the most momentous nature, which the transactions 
of mortality can admit ButO! how they shrink into an in- 
considerable trifle, if (their aspect upon immortality forgot) 
they ate set in coma ition with the delivery of a single soul> 
from the anguish a*a horrors of a distressed eternity !f 

men has an unquestionable greatness and dignity ; is majestic though in 
ruin. 

* I beg leave to transcribe a pertinent passage, from that celebrated mas- 
ter of reason, end universal literature. Dr. Bei ck} ; whom no ©lie can be 

tempted to suspect t ithf-r tinctun d v. i*h t nthu sin »m, or \\ arpt d to ! igotry.— 
*• If we consider," sayslie. "th«- ditri -ity of an i:'»elligent bring, ami put that 
•* in the st::ile against brute and inanimate matter, we may affirm, without 
" overvaluing human nature, that the sou! of one virtuous and religious 
«' man. is of greater worth and excellency, than the sun and hi, p'anfts,and • 
" all the star's in the world.'' See his Sermon's at Boyle's Lstl* >«- 8 - 

+ Not all yon luminaries quenclfd at once 
Were half so sad, as ont' benighted mind, 
Winch grope? (Or happiness, and meets despahv- . 

yi g ht-Ttieughts,}fe.lS-. , 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 291 

Is such the importance of the soul ! what vigilance then 
can be too much, ot\rather what holy solicitude can be. suffi- 
cient, for the overseei's of the Saviour's flock, and the guar- 
dians of this great, this venerable, this invaluable charge ? — 
Since such is the importance of the soul, wilt thou not, O man, 
be watchful for the preservation of thy own ? Shall every casual 
incident awaken thy concern ; every transitory toy command 
thy regard? and shall the welfare of thy soul, a work of con- 
tinual occurrence, a work of endless consequence, sue, in vain, 
for thy serious care. Thy soul, thy soul, is thy all. If this 
be secured, thou art greatly rich, and wilt be unspeakably hap- 
py. If this be lost, a whole world acquired, will leave thee in 
poverty ^ and all its delights enjoyed, will abandon thee to 
misery. 

I have often been charmed, and awed, at the sight of the 
nocturnal Heavens ; even before I knew how to consider them 
in their proper circumstances of majesty and beauty. Some- 
thing hke magic has struck my mind, on a transient and un- 
thinking survey of the cetheral vault, tinged throughout with 
the purest azure, and decorated with innumerable starry lamps. 
I have felt, I know not what, powerful and aggrandizing im- 
pulse ; which seemed to snatch me from the ow intanglements 
of vanity, and prompted an ardent sigh for sublimer objects. 
Methought I heard, even from the silent spheres, a command 
ing call, to spurn the abject earth, and pant after unseen de- 
lights. — Henceforward, J. hope to imbibe more copiously this 
m vral emanation of the skies, when, in some, such manner as 
the preceding, they are rationally seen, and the sight is duly 
improved. The stars, I trust, will teach as well as shine ; and 
help to dispel, both Nature's gloom, and my intellectual dark- 
ness. To yome people, they discharge no better a service, than. 
that of. holding a flambeau to their feet, and softening the 
horrors of their night. To me and- my friends, may they act 
as ministers of a superior order, as counsellors of wisdom, and 
guides, to happiness 1 Nor will they fail to execute this nobler 
office, if they gently light our way into the knowledge of their 
adored Maker ; if they point out, with their silver rays, our 
path to his beatific presence. 

. I gaze, I ponder. I ponder, I gaze ; and think ineffable 
things. — I roll an eye of awe and admiration. Again and again 
I repeat my ravished views, and can never satiate either my 
curiosity or my inquiry. I spring my thoughts into this im- 
mense field, till even Fancy tires upon her wing. I find won~ 
dsrs ever new ; wonders mere and more amazing. —Yet, af- 



292 CONTEMPLATIONS 

ter all ray present inquiries, what a mere nothing 1 do I know , 
by all my future searches, how little shall I be able to learn, 
of those vastly distant suns, and their circling- retinue of worlds? 
Could I pry with Newton's piercing- sagacity, or launch into 
his extensive surveys ; even then my apprehensions would be 
Kttle better, than those dim and scanty images, which the 
mole, just emerged from her cavern, receives on her feeble op- 
tic. This, sure, should repress all impatient or immoderate ar- 
dour, to pry into the secrets of the starry structures, and make 
me more particularly careful to cultivate my heart. To fa- 
thom the depths of the Divine Essence, or to scan universal 
Nature with a critical exactness, is an attempt which sets the 
acutest philosopher very nearly on a level with the idiot; 
since it is almost, if not altogether, as impracticable by the 
former, as by the latter. ' 

Be it, then, my chief study, not to pursue what is absolutely 
unattainable ; but rather to seek what is obvious to find, easy 
to be acquired, and of inestimable advantage when possessed. 
O ! let me seek that charity which edifieth,* that faith which 
purifieth. Love, humble love, not conceited science, keeps 
the door of Heaven, Faith, a child-like faith in Jesus ; not 
the haughty self- sufficient spirit, which scorns to be ignorant 
of any tiling ; presents a key f to those abodes of bliss — This 
present state is the scene destined to the exercise of devotion ; 
the invisible world is the place appointed for the enj nmentof 
knowledge. There the dawn of our infantile minds will be 
-advanced to the maturity of perfect day; or rather, there our 
midnight-shades will be brightened into all the lustre .f noon. — 
There the souls which come from the school of faith, and 
bring- with them the principles of love, will dwell in 1 ght itself; 
•will be obscured with no darkness at all ; will know, even as 

* 1 Cor. viii. 1. 1 need not inform my reader, thru in this text, in that ad- 
mirable chapter, I Cor xiii.aml in various other passages of scripture, the 
word charily should by no means l>e confined to the panutiiar :r.-t »>• alms- 
giving, or external beneficence. It is o.'a much more ex:lted:\n 1 1 \t ;<ive 
nature. It signifies that di\ imly-pn ci;;us : race, \\ hich warm- I ie soul v ich 
supreme love to God, and enlarges it with disint< nested afieoti -n -or men. 
Which renders ittbe reigning care oftlie life, a: d chief deiigh 
to promote the happiness of tlu- one. and t'>r glory of I 
is that charity of which so many i r.tv-llent things are every v 
which can never be too highly extolled, or too earnestly covet-.d, since ic is 
the image of God, and the very spirit of Heaven. 

t The righteousness of Christ. This is what Milton beautiful! . 

—The golden key, 

That opes the palace of Eternity. 



ON THE STARRY-HEAVENS. 293 

they are known.* — Such an acquaintance, therefore, do I de- 
sire to form, and to carry on such a correspondence, with the 
heavenly bodies, as may shed a benign influence on the seeds 
of grace implanted in my breast. Let the exalted tracts of 
the firmament sink my soul into deep humiliation. Let those 
eternal fires kindle in my heart an adoring gratitude to their 
Almighty Sovereign. Let yonder penderous and enormous 
globes, which rest on his supporting arm, teach me an un« 
shaken affiance in their incarnate Maker. Then shall I be— = 
if not wise as the astronomical adept, yet wise unto salvation^ 
Having now walked and worshipped in this universal tenv 
pie, that is arched with skies, emblazed ith stars, and extent 
ded even to immensity ; — Having cast an eye, like the enrap- 
tured patriarch,+ an eye of reason and devotion, through the 
magnificent scene ;. with the former, having discovered an in- 
finitude of worlds ; and with the latter, having met the Deity 
in every view ; — Having beheld, as Moses in the flaming bush, 
a glimpse of Jehovah's excellencies ! reflected from the seve- 
ral planets, and streaming from myriads of celestial lumina- 
ries .:— Having read various lessons in that stupendous book of 
wisdom,t where unmeasurable sheets of azure compose the 
page; and orbs of radiance write in everlasting characters, a 
comment on our creed : — What remains, but that I close the 
midnight solemnity, as our Lord concluded his grand sacra- 
mental institution, with a song of praise ? — And behold a 
hymn, suited to the sublime occasion, indited by|| inspiration 
itself, transferred into our language, by one of the happiest 
efforts of human ingenuity.§ 

The spacious firmament on high, 
With all the blue setheral sky, 
And spangled Heav'ns, a shining frame, 
Their great Original proclaim : 
Th' unwearied sun, from day today, 
Does his Creator's pow'r display ; 
And publishes to ev'ry land, 
The work of an Almighty hand. 

Soon as th' ev'ning-shades prevail, 
The moon takes up the wondrous tale j 

* 1 Cor. xiii. 12. t Gen. xy. S. 

% —For Heaven 
Is as the book of God before thee set, 

Wherein to read his wondrous works. -Milt. 

|! Psal. xix. 
5 Addison, Spect. vol. VI, No. 45 f» 

Bb2 



2?4 CONTEMPLATIONS, 6cc. 

And nightly, to the list'ning earth, 

Repeats the story of her birth ; 

While all the stars, that round her burn* 

And all the planets in their turn, 

Confirm the tidings as they roll, 

And spread the truth from pole to pole. 

What though, in solemn silence, all 
Move round the dark terrestrial ball ? 
What though nor real voice nor sound 
Amid their radiant orbs be found ' 
In Reason's ear they all rejoice, 
And utter forth a glorious voice, 
For ever singing, as they shine, 
The. hand that made us, is Divine, 



A WINTER-PIECE, 



Storms and tempests may calm the soul— Snow and ice be 
taught to warra the hearty and praise the Creator. 

Anonym. Lett, to the Author. See Note. 



I T 13 true, in the delightful seasons, His tenderness and 
His love, are most eminently displayed. — -In the vernal months, 
all is beauty to the eye, and music to the ear. The clouds drop 
fatness; the air softens into balm; and flowers, in abundance, 
spring* where-ever we tread, bloom where-ever we look.— ■ 
Amidst the burning heats of Summer, He expands the leaves, 
and thickens the shades. He spreads the cooling arbour 
to receive us, and awakes the gentle breeze to fan us. The 
moss swells into a couch, for the repose of our bodies ; while 
the rivulet softly roils, and sweetly murmurs, to sooth our 
imagination. — In Autumn, His bounty covers the fields with a 
profusion of nutrira^ntal treasure, and bends the boughs with 
loads of delicious fruit. He furnishes his hospitable board 
with present plenty, and preparer a copious magazine for fu- 
ture wants. — But is it only in these smiling periods of the 
year, that God, the all-gracious God is seen ? Has winter, stern 
Winter, no^tokens of his presence ? Yes : All things are eloquent 
of his praise. " His way is in the whirlwind "Storms and temp- 
ests fulfil his word, and extol his power. Even piercing frosts 
bear witness to his goodness, while they bid the shivering na- 
tions tremble at his wrath. — Be Winter then, for a while, our 
theme.* Perhaps those barren scenes may be fruitful of intel- 
lectual improvement. Perhaps that rigorous cold, which 
binds the earth in icy chains, may serve to enlarge our hearts, 
and warm them with holy love. 

* A sketch of this nature, I mast acknowledge, Is quite different from, 
the subject of the book ; and, I cannot but declare, was as far distant from 
the thoughts of the author. But the desire of several acquaintance, to« 
gether with an intimation of its usefulness, by a very polite letter from an 
unknown hand, (which lias undesignedly furnished me with the best 
motto I could recollect), prevailed with me to add a few descriptive touch- 
es, and improving - hints, on what is so often experienced in these Northern 
eegions- I hope, the attempt I have made to oblige these Gentlemen, will 
obtain the approbation, or at least the excuse, of iny other' readers.. 



$96 A WINTER-PIECE, 

See ! how the day is shortened ! — The sun, detained in fair- 
er climes, or engaged in more agreeable services, rises, like 
an unwilling visitant, with tardy and reluctant steps. He 
walks, with a shy indifference, along the edges of the Sou- 
thern sky } casting an oblique glance, he just looks upon our 
dejected world ; and scarcely scatters light through the thick 
air. Dim is his appearance, languid are his gleams, while he 
continues. Or, if he chance to wear a brighter aspect, and a 
cloudless brow ; jet, like the young and gay in the house of 
mourning, he seems uneasy till he is gone, is in haste to depart. 
•—And let him depart. YVhy should we wish for his longer 
stay, since he can shew us nothing but the creation in distress ? 
The flowery families lie dead, and the tuneful tribes are struck 
dumb. The trees, stript of their verdure, and lashed by 
storms, spread their naked arms to the enraged and relent- 
less Heavens. Fragrance no longer floats in the air ; but 
chilling damp9 hover, or cutting gales blow. Nature, divest- 
ed of all her beautiful robes, sits, like a forlorn disconsolate 
widow, in her weeds. VVmle winds, in doleful accents, howl; 
and rains, in repeated showers, weep. 

We regret not, therefore, the speedy departure of the day. 
When the room is hung with funeral black, and dismal ob- 
jects are all around ; who would desire to have the glimmering 
taper kept alive ? which can only discover spectacles of sor- 
row, can only make the horror visible — And, since this mor- 
tal life is little belter than a continual conflict with sin, or an 
unremitted struggle with misery ; is it not a gracious ordina- 
tion, which has reduced our age to a span ? Fourscore years 
of trial, for the virtuous, are sufficiently long ; and more than, 
such a term allowed to the wicked, would render them be- 
yond all measure vile. Our way to the kingdom of Heaven 
lies through tribulations Shall we then accuse, shall we not 
rather bless, the Providence, which has made the passage 
short? Soon, soon we cross the vale of tears ; and then arrive 
on the happy hills, where light for ever shines, where joy for 
ever smiles. 

Sometimes the day is rendered shorter still; is almost 
blotted out from the year.* The vapours gather; they thick- 
en into an impenetrable gloom, and obscure the face of the 
sky. At length, the rains descend. The sluices of the fir- 
mament are opened, and the low-hung clouds pour their con- 
gregated stores. Copious ..nd unintermitted, still they pour, 

* Involrere diem nimbi, et BOX Ikumida coehvm 



A WINTER-PIECE. 297 

till are unexhausted. The waters drop incessantly from 
the eaves, and rush in rapid streams fr;>ra the spouts. They 
Pu&r along- the channelled pavements, and stand in foul shallows 
amidst the village streets. Now. if-the Inattentive eye, or neg- 
ligent hand, has left the roof but scantily covered; the in- 
sinuating' element finds its way into every flaw, and, oozing* 
through the ceiling, at once upbraids and chastises the care- 
less inhabitant. The ploughman soaked to the skin, leaves 
his half-tilled acre. The poor poultry, dripping* with wet, 
croud into shelter. The tenants of the bough fold up their 
wings, afraid to launch into the streaming air. .The beasts, 
joyless and dispirited, ruminate under their sheds. The 
roads swim, and the brooks swell.— The river, amidst ail this 
watry ferment, long contained itself within its appointed 
bounds : but swollen by innumerable currents, and roused at 
last into uncontrollable rage, bursts over its banks, shoots in- 
to the plain, bears down all opposition, spreads itself far and 
wide, and buries the meadows under a brown, sluggish, soak- 
ing deluge. 

How happy for man, that this inundation comes, : when there 
are no flowery crops in the valley, to be overwhelmed; no 
fields standing thick with corn, to be laid waste ! At such a 
juncture, it would have been rum to the husbandman and his 
family: but, thus timed, it yields manure for his ground, and 
promises him riches in reversion. — How often, and how long, 
has the Divine Majesty bore with the most injurious affronts 
from sinners ' His goodness triumphed over theirpreverseness, 
and graciously refused to be exasperated. But, O presump- 
tuous creatures ! multiply no longer vour provocations. U. ge 
not, byrepertted iniquities, the Almighty a; m to strike ; lest 
his Ion.? -so ;, and his 6e£ee anger break forth; 

b ;eafe f waters,* and sweep you away into 

irre cover.:. -.sting perdition. 

How "jjestie ! and O how mysterkms are thy 

works, the jc ' i . c Heaven, and Lord of Nature ? When the 

are the itfrgemrs confined ? tiil thou art 

open -their prison- 
ey fly forth, 
scattei icing destruction. 

The _ is .hurled into the most tumultuous con- 

fusion. The serial torrent bursts its way over mn'gvtams, 
;aS| and continents. Ail things feel the dreadful shock. AH 



298 A WINTER-PIECE. 

things tremble before the furious blast. The forest, vexed 
and tore, groans under the scourge. Her sturdy sons are 
strained to the very root, and almost sweep the soil they were 
wont to sh ,de. The stubborn oak, that disdains to bend, is 
dashed headlong to the ground; and, with shattered arms, 
wuh prostrate trunk, blocks the road. — Whde the flexile reed, 
'hat springs up in the m arch, yielding to the gust (as the meek 
and pliant temper to injuries, or the resigned and patient spirit 
to misfortunes) eludes the force of the storm, and survives 
amidst the wide spread havock. 

For a moment, the turbulent and outrageous sky seems to 
be assuaged ; but it intermits its wrath, only to increase its 
strength. Soon the sounding squadrons of the air return to the 
attack, and renew their ravages with redoubled fury. The 
statel) dome rocks amidst the wheeling clouds. The impreg- 
nable tower totters on it's basis, and threatens to overwhelm 
whom it was intended to protect The ragged rock is rent in 
.pieces ;* and even tie hills, the perpetual hills, on their deep 
foundations, are scarcely secure .—Where now is the place of 
safety? when the c.ty reels, and houses become heaps ! Sleep 
affrighted flies Diversion is turned into horror. All is uproar 
in the elements: ail is consternation among mortals; and no- 
thing but one wide scene of rueful devastation through the 
land — Yet this is only an inferior minister of Divine displea- 
sure ; the executioner of milder indignation. How then, — O ! 
how wiil the lofty looks of man be humbled, and the haughti- 
ness of men be bowed down,f when the Lord God Omnipo- 
tent shall meditate terror — when he shall set all his terrors in 
array, — when he rises to judge the nations, and to shake terri- 
bly the earth ! 

The ocean swells With tremendous commotions. The pon- 
derous waves are heaved from their capacious bed, and almost 

* 1 King3 xlx. 13. 

t — -Mortalia cortla 
Per gentes humills stravit pavor.— 

One would almost imagine, that Virgil had read Isaiah, and borrowed his 
ideas from chap. ii. ver. 11. The humillis and stravit of the one, so exact- 
ly correspor.il with the— humbled— bowed down- -of. the other. But, in one 
circumstance, the Pi -ophetis very much superior to the poet. The Prophet, 
by giving a striding contrast to his sentiments, represent* them with in- 
comparably greater energy. He say3 not, men in the gross, or the human 
heart in general ; hut men of the most elated looks, henrts big with the 
xn<M arrogant imaginations. Even these shall stoop from their superci- 
lious heights ; even these shall grovel in the dust of abasement, pni shudder 
with all tie extreme* of an abject pusillanimity. 



A WINTER-PIECE. 399 

lay bare the unfathomable deep. Flung" into the most rapid 
agitation, they sweep over the rocks ; they lash the lofty elm's ; 
and toss themselves into the clouds. Navies are rent from 
their anchors ; and, with all their enormous load, are whirled 
swift as the arrow, wild as the winds, along- the vast abyss — 
Now, they climb the rolling mountain ; the\ plough the frightul 
ridge ; and seem to skim the skies. Anon, they plunge into the 
opening gulf; they lose the sight of day ; and are lost them- 
selves to every eye. How vain is the pilot's art ! how impo- 
tent the mariner's strength ! They reel to and fro, and stagger 
in the jarring hold; or cling to the cordage, while bursting- 
seas foam over the deck. Despair is in every face, and death 
sits threatening on every surge. — But why, O ye astonished 
mariners ! why should you abandon yourselves to despair ? Is 
the Lord's hand shortened, because the waves of the sea rage 
horribly ? Is his ear deafened by the roaring thunders, and the 
bellowing tempests? Cry, cry, unto him, who " holdeih the 
'* winds in his fist, and the waters in the hollow of his hand." - 
He is All-gracious to hear, and almighty to save. If he com- 
mand, the storm shall be hushed to silence ; the billows shall 
subside into a calm ; the lightnings shall lay their fiery b: lis 
aside ; and, instead of sinking in a watery grave, \ou shall find 
yourselves brought to the desired haven. 

Sometimes, after a joyless day, a more dismal night suc- 
ceeds. — The lazy, louring vapours had wove so thicka veil, as 
the meridian sun could scarcely penetrate. What gloom then 
must overwhelm the nocturnal hours! The moon withdraws 
her shining. Not a single star is able to struggle through the 
deep arrangement of shades All is pitchy darkness, with- 
out one enlivening ray. How solemn ! how awful ! It is like 
the shroud of Nature, or the return of chaos. I do not wonder, 
that it is the parent of terrors, and so apt toengender melan- 
choly. — Lately, the tempest marked its rapid way with mis- 
chief: now' the night dresses her silent pavilion with horror. 

I have sometimes left the beaming tapers, withdrawn froin 
the ruddy fire, and plunged into the thickest of these sooty- 
shades ; without regretting the change, rather exulting in it 
as a welcome deliverance. The very gloom was pleasing, was 
exhilrating, compared with the conversation I quitted. The 
speech of my companions (how does it grieve me, that I 
should even once have occasion to call them by that name I) 
was the language of darkness ; was horror to the soul, and 
torture to the ear.* — Theirteeth were spears and arrows, ai>d 

* What has been said, I ask'd my soul, what done ? 
llT-f fiw'il Q'Jr mirth? or whence the source begua? 



500 A WINTER-FIECE. 

their tongue a sharp sword, to stub and assassinate their neigh- 
bo'iii^d character. Their throat wus an open sepulchre, gap- 
ing to devour the reputation of the innocent, or tainting- the air 
with their virulent ar.d polluted breath. — Sometimes their li- 
centious and ung-wvei liable discourse shot arrows of profane - 
ness against Heuven itself; and, in proud defiance challenged 
the resentment of' Omnipotence. — Sometimes, as if it was the 
g-lory of human nature to cherish the grossest appetites of the 
brute ? or the mark of a gentleman, to have served an appren- 
ticeship in a brothel , the filthiest jests of the stews (d low ob- 
scenity can be a jesi) were nauseously obtruded on the conv 
pany. All the modest part were offended and grieved ; while 
the other besotted creatures laughed aloud, though the I 
of uncleaTiness appeared on their lips — Are not dust: persons 
prisoners of darkness, though blazing- sconces pour artificial 
day through their rooms ? Are not their souls immured in the 
most baleful shades, though the noon-tide sun is brightnedby 
flaining on their gilded chariots ? — They discern not that great 
and adorable Being", who ill is the universe with his infinite and 
giorious presence j who is all eye, to observe their actions, — 
all ear, to examine their words. They know not the All-suf- 
ficient Redeemer, nor the unspeakable blessedness of his hea- 
venly kingdom. They are groping for the prize of happiness, 
but will certainly grasp the thorn of anxiety. They are wan- 
tonly sporting or. the brink of a precipice ; and are ever 
merit in danger of falih.g headlong into irretrievable ruin, and 
endless despair. 

They have forced me out, and are, perhaps, dcridingme in 
my absence ; are charging my reverence for the ever-pJ 
God, and my concern for the dignity of our rational nature, to 
the account of humour and singularity; to narrowm 
thought, or sourness of temper. Be it so. I will indulge no indig- 
nation against them. It any thing like it should arise, I will con- 
vex, it into prayer. " Pity them, O thou Father of mercies? shew 
"them the madness of their profaneness ! shew them the 

Perhaps, thejest, thai chara'd the sprightly croud, 

' t;ib!t laugh so loud. 
To some mU ■ nctici ow'd its poor pr I 
'io in. imbiguous \\ oid's per 
To . - wanton air, 

Offence and terturi to the sober tar. 

tng stream was brought 
another's fault; 

:•. w fiiii forg&t, 

And prudence mention with the last jrcgrew^HrfefV -5W. 



A WINTERPIECE. 301 

(i baseness of their vile ribaldry ! Let their dissolute rant be 
* c turned into silent sorrow and confusion ; till they open their 
"lips, to adore thine insulted Majesty, and to implore thy 
" gracious pardon — Till they devote to thy service, those so- 
*' cial hours, and those superior faculties, which they are now 
" abusing, to the dishonour of thy name, to the contamination 
'* of tlteir own souls, and (unless timely repentance intervene) 
" to their everlasting infamy and perdition.'* 

I ride home amidst the gloomy void. All darkling and so- 
litary, I can scarce discern my horse's head ; and only guess 
out my blind road No companion, but danger ; or, perhaps, 
** destruction ready at my side "* But why do I fancy myself 
solitary ? Is not the Father of lights, the God of my life, the 
great and everlasting friend, always at my right hand ? Because 
the day s excluded, is his omnipresence vacated? Though 
1 have no earthly acquaintance near, to assist in case of a mis- 
fortune, or to beguile the time, and divert uneasy suspicions, 
!>y entertaining conferences ; may I not lay my help- upon the 
A'mighty, and converse with God by humble supplication ? 
For this exercise no place is improper, uo hour unseasona- 
ble, and no posture incommodious. This is society, the best 
of society, even in solitude. This is a fund of delights easily- 
portable, and quite inexhaustible. A treasure this of unknown 
value ; liable to no hazard from wrong or robbery; but per- 
fectly secure to the lonely wanderer, in the most darksome 
paths. 

And why should I distress myself with apprehensions of 
peril ? This access to God is not only an indefeasible privilege, 
but a kind of ambulatory garrison : Those who make known 
their requests unto God, and rely upon his protecting care ; 
he gives his angels, charge over their welfare. His angels are 
commissioned to escort them in their travelling; and to hold 
up their goings, that they dash not their foot against a stone.f 
Nay, he himself condescends to be their guardian, and 
'* keeps all their bones, so that, not one of them is broken.** 
Between these persons, and the most mischievous object, a 
treaty of peace is concluded. The articles of this grand alliance" 
are recorded in the book of Revelation ; and will, when it is 
for the real benefit of believers, assuredly be made good in the 
administrations of Providence. In that day, saith the Lord, 
will I make a covenant for them with the beasts of the fVdd, 
and with the fowls of Heaven, and wth the creeping things 
of the ground ; and they ihall be in league with the stones of 

* Job sviii. 12. t Psal. sci, 1 1, 13. 

Cc 



30C- A WINTER-PIECE. 

the field. * Though they fall headlong- on the flints, even the 
flints, fitted to fracture the scull, shall receive them as into the 
arms of friendship, and not offer to hurt whom the Lord is 
pleased to preserve. 

May I then enjoy the presence of this gracious God, and 
darkness and light shall be both alike. Let him \thisper 
peace to my conscience ; and this dread silence shall be more 
charming than the voice of eloquence, or the strains of music. 
Ltt *>im reveal his ravishing perfections in my soul; and I 
shall not want the saffron beauties of the morn, the golden 
glories of noon, or the impurph-d evening sky. I shall sigh 
oniy for those most desirable and distinguished realms, where 
the light of his countenance perpetually shines, and conse- 
quently " there is no night ihere." f 

How surprising are the alterations of Nature! I left her, 
the preceding evening, plain and unadorned. But now a thick 
rime has shed its hoary honours over all. It has shagged the 
fleeces of the sheep, and crisped the traveller's locks The 
hedges are richly fringed, and all the ground is profusely pow- 
dered The downward branches are tasselled with silver, and 
the upright are feathered with the plumy wave. 

The fine are not always the valuable The air, amidst all 
these gaudy decorations, is charged with chilling and unwhole- 
some damps. The raw hazy influence spreads wide; sits 
deep ; hangs heavy and oppressive on the springs of life. A 
listless langour clogs the animal functions, and the purple 
stream glide but faintly through its channels. In vain, the 
ruler of the day exerts his beaming powers : In vain, he at- 
tempts to disperse th>s insurrection of vapours. The sullen; 
maligliant cloud refuses to depart It envelops '.he world, and 
intercepts the prospect I look abroad for the neighbouring 
village ; I send my eye in que^t of the ising turret; but ana 
scarce able to discern the very next house Where are the 
blue arches of Heaven ? Where is the radiant countenance of 
the sun ? where the boundless scenes of creation ? Lost, !<<st 
are their beauties ; quenched their glories The thronged thea- 
tre of the universe seems an empty void; and all its elegant 
pictures, an inndistirguishable blank. — Thus would it have been 
with our intellectual views, if the gospel had not come in t» 
our relief. We should have known neither our true good, 
nor real evil. We had been a riddle to ourselves ; the p' e- 
sent state all confusion, and the future impenetrable darkness. 
But the Sin of Righteousness, arising with potent and tnumph- 

• Job v. 23, Hos. ii. 18. t Rev. xxL 25. 



A WINTER-PIECE. 303 

aht beams, has dissipated the interposing cloud ; has opened. 
a prospect more beautiful than the blossoms of spring - , more 
cheern g than the treasures of Autumn, and iar more enlarged 
than the extent of the visible system : which, having led the 
eye of* the mind through fields of grace, over rivers of righte- 
ousness, and hills crowned wkh knowledge, terminates, at 
length, in the Heavens ; sweetly losing itself in regions of in- 
finite bliss, and endless glory. 

As I walk along the h;g, it seems, at some little distance, to 
be almost solid gloom, such as would shut out every glimpse 
o' light, and totally imprison me in obscurity. But when I ap- 
proach, and enter it, 1 find myself agreeably mistaken, and 
the mist much thinner than it appeared. — Such is the case with 
regard to the sufferings of the present life ; they are not, when 
experienced, so dreadful as a timorous imagination surmised. 
Such also is the case with reference to the gratifications of 
sense; they prove not when enjoyed, so substantial as a 
sanguine expectation represented. In both instances, we are 
graciously disappointed The keen edge of the calamity is 
blunted, that it may not wound us with incurable anguish : 
the exquisite relish of the prosperity is palled, that it may not 
captivate our affections, and enslave them to inferior delights. 

Sometimes the face of things wears amore pleasing form ; 
the very reverse of the foregoing The sober evening ad* 
varices, to close the short-lived day. The firmament, clear 
and u sullied, puts on its brightest blue. The stars, in throngs 
ing multitudes, and with a peculiar brilliancy, glitter through 
the fair expanse ; while the frost pours its subtil and pene=. 
trating influx nee all around. Sharp and. intensely severe, all 
the long night, the rigid xther continues its operations. 
When, late and si w, the morning opens her pale eve, in 
what a curious and amusing disguise is Nature dressed! The 
icicles, jagged and uneven, are pendent on the houses. A 
whitish film incrusts the windows, where mimic landscapes 
rise, and fancied figures swell. The fruitful fields are hard- 
ened to iron ; the moistened meadows are congealed to mar- 
ble ; and both resound (an effect unknown before) with the 
peasant's hasty tread. The stream is arrested in its career, 
and its overflowing surface chained to the banks. The fluid 
paths become a solid road ; where the finny shoals were wont 
to rove, the sportive youth slide, or the rattling chariots roll.* 

* Concrescunt snbito currentl in flumine crustse ; 
Undaoue .iani tergri ferratos sustmet orbes, 
Fupp'bus ilia prius patulis, nunc hospitaplaustris, 
/Bracjue dissiliunt vulgo. Virg, 



204 A WINTER-PIECE. 

And (what would seem, to an inhabitant of the Southern world, 
as unaccountable as the deepest mysteries of our religion) that 
very same breath of Heaven, which cements the lakes into a 
crystal pavement, cleaves the oaks as it were with invisible 
wedges : " breaks in pieces the Northern iron, and the steel ; 
*' even while it builds a bridge of icy rock over the seas."* 

The air is all serenity. Refined by the nitrous particles, it 
affords the most distinct views, and extensive prospects. The 
seeds of infection are killed ; and the pestilence destroyed, 
even in embryo. So the cold of affliction ttnds to mortify 
our corruptions, and subdue our vicious habits. — The croud- 
ing atmosphere constringes our bodies, and braces our nerves. 
The spirits are buoyant, and sally briskly on the execution of 
their office. In the summer-months, such an unclouded sky, 
and so bright a sun, would have melted us with heat, and 
softened us into supineness. We should have been ready to 
throw our limbs under the spreading beach, and to lie at ease 
by the murmuring brook. But now none loiters in his path ; 
none is seen with folded arms. All is in motion ; all is activity. 
Choice, prompted by the weather, supplies the spur of neces- 
sity. Thus, the rugged school of misfortune often trains up 
the mind to a vigorous exertion of its faculties. The bleak 
climate of adversity often inspirits us with a manly resolution ; 
when a soft and downy affluence, perhaps, would have relax- 
ed ail the generous spring of the soul, and have left it ener- 
vated with pleasure, or dissolved in indolence. 

" Cold cometh out of the north ."f The winds, having swept 
those deserts of snow, arm themselves with millions of frozen 
particles, and make a fierce descent upon our isle. Under black 
and scowling clouds, they drive, dreadfully whizzing, through 
the darkened air. They growl around our houses ; assault our 
doors ; and, eager for entrance, fasten on our windows. Walls 
can scarce restrain them ; bars are unable to elude them ; 
i.hrough every cranny they force their way. Ice is on their 
ivings ; they scatter agues through the land ; and Winter, all 
%Vinter rages as they go. Their breath is as a searing* iron to 

* Job xxxviii. 30. The waters are hid, locked up from the cattle's lips, and 
secured from the fisher's net, as wells were wont to be closed with a ponder- 
ous and impenetrable stone. And not only lakes and rivers, but the surface 
of the great deep, with its restless and uncontrollable surges, is taken cap. 
tive by the frost, and bound in shining tetters. 
t Job xxxvii. 9. 

X This, I suppose, is the meaning of that figurative expression used by 
the prophet Habakkuk ; who, speaking of the Chaldeans invading Judaea, 
says,— Their faces, or the incursion^ they make, shall svp up, shall swat • 



A WINTER-PIECE. . 305 

the little verdure left in the plains. Vastly more pernicious to 
the tender plants than the sharpest knife, they kill their branch- 
es, and wound the very root. Let not the corn venture to peep 
too freely from the entrenchment of the furrow ; let not the 
fruitbearing blossoms dare to come abroad from their lodg- 
ment in the bark; lest these murderous blasts intercept and 
seize the unwary strangers, and destroy the hopes of the ad- 
vancing- year. 

O, it is severely cold ! Who is so hardy, as not to shrink at 
this excessively pinching weather ? See! every face is pale. 
Even the blooming cheeks contract a gelid hue, and the teeth 
hardly forbear chattering — Ye that siteasy and joyous, amidst 
your commodious apartments, solacing yourselves in the dif- 
fusive warmth of your fire, be mindful of your brethren, in the 
cheerless tenement of poverty. Their .shattered panes are o- 
pen to the piercing winds ; a tattered garment scarcely covers 
their shivering flesh ; while a few faint and dying embers on 
the squalid hearth, rather mock their wishes, than warm their 
limbs. — While the generous juices of Oporto sparkle in your 
glasses ; or the streams, beautifully tinged anddeliciously fla- 
voured with the Chinese leaf, smoke in the elegant porcelain; 
O remember, that many of your fellow-creatures, amidst all 
the rigour of these inclement skies, are emaciated with sick- 
ness, benumbed with age, and pining with hunger. Let "their 
"loins bless you" for comfortable cloathing. Restore them 
with medicine; regale them with food; and baffle the rag- 
ing year. So may you never know any of their distresses, but 
only by the hearing of the ear, the seeing of the eye, or the 
feeling of a tender commiseration ! — Methinks the bitter blus- 
tering winds p'ead for the poor indigents. May they breathe 
pity into your breasts, while they blow hardships into their 
huts !— Observe those blue flames, and ruddy coals,, in your 
chimney : Quickened by the cold, they look more lively, and 
glow more strongly. Silent, but seasonable admonition, to the 
gay circle, that chat and sm : le around them ! Thus may vour 
hearts, at such a juncture of need, kindle i- 'o a peculiar be- 
nevolence ! Detain not your superfluous piles of wood Let 
them hasten to the relief of the starving family Bid them ex- 
pire in many a wilHng blaze, to mitigate the severity of the rea- 
son, and cheer the bleak abodes of want. So shall they ascend, 

low greedily, shall devour utterly, the inhabitants of the e< untry, and their 
valuable effects ; as fteketn, corroding- blasts of the East wind destroy every 
green tiling in the field. Hab. L 9. 

C 2 



506 A WINTER-PIEC£, 

mingled with thanksgivings to God, and ardent prayers for 
your welfare; — ;-scend, more grateful to Heaven than co- 
lumns of the most costly incense. 

Now the winds cease. Having brought their load, they are 
dismissed from service. They have wafted a» immense car- 
go of clouds, which empty themselves in snow. At first, a 
few scattered shreds come wandering down the saddened 
sky. This slight skirmish is succeeded by a general onset. 
The flakes, large, and numerous, and thick-wavering, de^ 
scend. They dim the air, and hasten the approach of night. 
Through all the night, in softest silence, and with a continual 
flow, this fleecy shower falls. In the morning, when we awake, 
what a surprising change appears !— Is this the same world I 
here is no diversity of colour ! I can hardly distinguish the 
trees from the hills on which they grow. Which are the mea- 
dows, and which the plains ? Where are the green pastures, 
and where the fallow lands ? All things lie blended in bright 
confusion ; so bright, that it heightens the splendor of day, 
and even dazzles the organs of sight. — The lawn is not so fair, 
as this snowy mantle, which invests the fields ; and even the 
lily, was the lily to appear, would look tarnished in its presence. 
I can think of but one thing, which excels or equals the glit- 
tering robe of Winter. Is any person desirous to know my 
meaning ? He may find it explained in that admirable hymn,* 
composed by the Royal Penitent. Is any des rous to possess 
this matchless ornament? He will find it offered to his accept- 
ance in every page of the gospel. 

See ! (for the eye cannot satisfy itself without viewing again 
and again the curious, the delicate scene) see ! how the hedg- . 
es are habited, like spotless vestals ! The houses are roofed 
with uniformity and lustre. The meadows are covered with a 
carpet of the finest ermine.j- The groves bow beneath the 
lovely burden ; and all, all below, is one wide, immense, shining 
waste of white. — By deep snows and heavy rains, God seal- 
eth up the hand of every man ; and for this purpose, adds our 
sacred philosopher, that all men may know his work,* he 
confines them within their doors, and puts a stop to their se- 
cular business, that they may consider the things which belong 

* Can any thing be whiter than snow ? Yes, saith David ; If Ood be plea- 
sed to wash me from my sins in the blood of Christ, I shall be even whiter 
than snow. Psal. li. 7. 

■f This animal is milk-white. As for those black spots, we generally see in 
linings of ermine, they are added by the ft trier, in order to diversify the 
appearance, or heighten the beauty, of the native colour. 
t Jobxxxviu7. 



A WINTER-PIECE. 307 

to their spiritual welfare ; that, having- a vacation from their 
ordinary employ, the.} may observe the works of his power, 
and become acquainted with the mysteries of his grace. 

And worthy, worthy of all observation, are the works of 
the great Creator. They are prodigiously various, and per- 
fectly amazing. How ptiant and ductile is Nature under his 
forming hand ! At his command, the self-same substance as- 
sumes the most different shapes, and is transformed Jnto an 
endless multiplicity of figures. If he ordains, the water is 
moulded into haii, and discharged upon the earth like a vol- 
ley of shut j or it is consolidated into ice, and defends the ri- 
vers, «• as it were with a breasc -plate." At the bare intimation 
of his will, the very same element is scattered in hoarfrost, like 
a sprinkling of the mo^i attenuated ashes ; or is spread over 
the surface of the ground, in these couches of swelling and 
flaky down. 

The snow, however it may carry the appearance of cold, 
affords a warm garment for the corn ; screens it from nipping 
frosts, and cherishes its infant growth. It will abide for a 
while, to exert a protecting care, and exercise a fostering in- 
fluence. Then, touched by the sun, or thawed by a softening 
gale, the furry vesture melts into genial moisture ; sinks deep 
into the soil, and saturates its pores with the dissolving nitre ; 
replenishing the^lebe with those principles of vegetative life, 
which will open into the bloom of Spring, and ripen into the 
fruits of Autumn. — Seautiful emblem this, and comfortable 
representation of the Divine word, both in the successful and 
advantageous issue of its operation ! As the rain cometh down, 
and the snow from Heaven, and returneth not thither, but 
watereththe earth, -and maketh it bring forth and bui, that it 
may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater: so shall 
my word be, that goeth forth out of my mouth : It shall not 
return unto me void, but shall accomplish that which I please, 
and it shall prosper in the thing where to I sent it * 

Nature, at length puts off her lucid veil. She drops it in a 
trickling thaw. The loosened snow rolls in sheets from the 
houses. Various openings spot the hills ; which, even while 
we look, become larger, and more numerous. The trees rid 
themselves, by degrees, of the hoary incumbrance. — Shook 
from the springing boughs, part falls heavy to the ground, 
part flies abroad in shining atomSi Our fields and gardens, 
lately buried beneath the drifted heaps, rise plain and distinct 
Voview. — Since we see Nature once again, has she no verdant 



308 A WINTER-PIECE. 

traces, no beautiful features left ? They are, like real friends, 
very rare ; and therefore, the more particularly to be regarded, 
the more highly tobe valued. — Here and there the Holly hangs 
out her glowing berries ; the Laurustinus spreads her grace- 
ful tufts; and both under a covert of unfading foliage. — The 
plain, but hardy Ivy, clothes the decrepid, crazy wall; nor 
shrinks from the friendly office, though the skies frown, and 
the storm roars. — The Laurel, firm, erect and bold, expands 
its leaf of vivid green. In spite of the united, the repeated at- 
tacks of wind, and rain, and frost, it preserves an undismayed 
lively look ; and maintains its post, while withering millions 
fall around. Worthy, by vanquishing the nigged force of 
Winter, worthy to adorn the triumphant conqueror's brow. — 
Nor must I forget the Bay-tree ; which scorns to be a mean 
pensioner on a few transient sunny gleams ; or, with a servile 
obsequiousness, to vary its appearance, in conformity to the 
changing seasons : by such indications of sterling worth, and 
staunch resolution, reading a lecture to the poet's genius, whilo 
it weaves the chaplet for his temples — These, and a few other 
plants, clad with native verdure, retain their comely aspect, in 
the bleakest climes, and in the coldest month-s. 

Such, and so durable, are the accomplish n ents of a refined 
understanding, and an amiable temper. The tawdry orna- 
ments of dress, which catch the unthinking vulgar, soon be- 
come insipid and despicable. The rubied lip, and the rosy 
cheek, fade. Even the sparkling wit,* as well as the sparkling 
eye, please but for a moment. But the virtuous mind has 
charms, which survive the decay of every inferior embellish- 
ment ; charms, which add to the fragrancy of the flower, the 
permanency of the ever- green. 

Such, likewise, is the happiness of the sincerely religious ; 
like a tree, says the inspired moralist, " whose leaf shall not 

* <: How little does God esteem the things that men coimt great : the on- 
B dowments of wit and eloquence, that men arimire in some! Alas! how 
" poor are they to him ! He respecteth not any who are wise in heart : '1 hey 
" are nothing,' and less than nothing, in his eyes. Even wise men admire, 
" how tittle it is that men ! now ; how small a matter lies under the sound of 
" these popular wonders, a learned man. u great scholar, a great statesman. 
" How much more doth the all-wise God meanly account of these? He 
2 often discovers even to the world, their meanness. He hcfools them. So 
" valour, or birth, or worldly greatness, th"s; h. gives, and gives as things 
" he makes no great reckoning of. to such as shall never see his face ; and 
" calls to the inheritance of glory poo despised creatures, that are looked 
" on as the off-scourings and refuse of the v. orld.'* 

>*-Tb,us, says an excellent author ; who writes with the most amiable 



A WINTER-PIECE. 309 

fall." He borrows not his peace from external circumstances ; 
but has aland within, and is " satisfied from himself *" Even 
though impoverished by calamitous accidents, he is rich in 
the possession of grace, and richer in the hope of glory. His 
joys are infinitely superior to, as well as nobly independent onj- 
the transitory glow of sensual delight, or the capacious favours 
of what the world calls Fortune. 

If the snow composes the light-armed troops of the sky, 
methmks the hail constitutes its heavy artillery, f When driven 
by a vehement wind, with what dreadful impetuosity does that 
stony shower fall ! How it rebounds from the frozen ground, 
and rattles on the resounding dome ! It attenuates the rivers 
into smoke, or scourges them into foam. It crushes the in- 
fant-flowers ; cuts in pieces the gardener's early plants ; and 
batters the feeble fortification of his glasses into shivers. It 
darts into the traveller's face : He turns, with haste from the 
stroke ; or feels, on his cheek, for the gushing blood. If he 
would retreat into the house, itfollows him thither; and, like 
a determined enemy, that pushes the pursuit, dashes through 
the crackling panes.— But the fierce attack is quickly over. 
The clouds have soon spent their shafts ; soon unstrung their 
bow.— Happy for the inhabitant* of the earth, that a sally so 
dreadfully furious, should be so remarkably short! What else 
©ould endure the shock, or escape destruction ! 

But, behold a bow, of no hostile intention 1 a bow, painted in 
variegated colours, on the disburdened cloud. How vast is the - 
extent, how delicate the texture, of that showery arch ! It com- 
passeth the Heavens with a glorious circle, and teaches us to 
forget the horrors of the storm. Elegant its form, and rich 
its tinctures ; but more delightful its sacred significancy. 

spirit of benevolence ; with the most unaffected air of humility ; and, like, 
the sacred originals, from which he copies, with a majestic simplicity of 

style.— Whose select works I may venture to recoinni' d, not only as a 
treasure, bat as a mine of genuine", sterling, evan^ lien! uetv.— See page 
*20, of Archbishop Leightons's Select. Works, tie E'bbin-h edition, octa- 
vo. Which it is necessary to specify, because the London edition does not 
contain that pa^-t of his writings which has applied me with the preceding 
quotation. 

* Prov. xiv. 14. 

t He casteth forth his ice like morsels, Psal. exlvii. 17. Which in modern 
language, mia;ht be thus expressed: He poureth his hail like a voile v of 
shot. The word in adequately translated morsels, alludes, I think, to those 
fragments of the rock, or those smooth stones from the brook, wkieh> ia 
the day of battle- the warriors hurried from their slings. 



310 A WJNTER.PIECE. 

While the violet and the rose blush in its beautiful aspect, the 
©live-brunch smiles in its gracious import It writes, in radiant 
dyes, what the Angels sung in harmonious strains ; " Peace on 
earth, and good will towards men" It is the stamp of insur- 
ance, for the continuance of seed-time and harvest; for the 
preservation and security of the visible world.* It is the com- 
fortable token-j- of a better state, and a happier kingdom ; — a 
kingdom, where sin shall cease, and misery be abolished; 
where storms shall beat, and Winter pierce no more ; but ho- 
liness, happiness, and joy, like one unbounded Spring, for 
ever, ever bloom. 

• Gen. ix. 22|— 16. t Rev. iv. 3. 



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